The Red Lioness
by KayGe08
Summary: At age 14, Morgiana was reduced from Princess of the realm to the lowliest of commoners. Three years have elapsed since the dark day her country fell into the greedy palms of the Tyrant King. "But, if given the chance to get it all back, would you once again take on your role as Princess, become the Red Lioness?"
1. Chapter 1

**This has been a work in progress in my head for over a year now and I finally decided to put it out there. My second Magi fanfic, hope this is worth continuing. Certain characters who are related canonically may not be related to their family members in this story and I really hope that no one's OOC. I thank you, dearest reader who has stumbled upon this story, if you take the time to even glance at it and tell me what you think.**

 **I do not own Magi and I never will ^_^**

Chapter 1

The scorching heat earlier that day dissolved into an overcast sky, the afternoon breeze intensifies. It'll rain soon, a torrential downpour unfitting this season of drought. He sat comfortably on the beige balcony railing, feet dangling two tiers above ground level. Magenta eyes lazily skim the thick open tome in his arms, a sudden wave of disinterest settles over him. Pulsating wind currents flip through the volume in his stead, shutting it closed in the process. His thumb brushed the brazen letters written on the book's spine. _Nomad of the North_. The words danced in his mind to the lighthearted tune of wind chimes swaying over the doorway at his back. He indifferently recalled that time his...colleague – for lack of a better term – etched the nonsensical name on his property without consent. He just happens to reside in the northernmost portion of the land most frequently. The air appeared significantly cleaner and the surrounding towns are never a bother.

The first sign of cold precipitation came to a halt atop his dark pink mane. Taking temporary shelter under his prized possession of an elegantly weaved fan of black feathers, he removed himself from the rain. Not completely, however, for his footfalls came to a stop at the threshold of his pathway to cover. Four rods of silver, uneven in length, moved to the uprising airwaves without resistance. Their previous song ceased yet they remained in furious contact with one other.

"Hmm." He mused, the unnatural phenomenon sparked interest within his mind. Coupled with the strange weather pattern…no, he's reading into this too much. The elements have always been unpredictable, no matter the season or the age.

He swept through the center aisle of his private library, storing the red velvet covered book back in place. Seconds after spiraling down a creaking helical staircase, he entered the spacious living quarters below. Billows of dust arose as he walked, the room barely inhabited since he prefers the company of the collection of knowledge he's compiled over the past millennia. Yet now he has reason for coming down here. Sifting through discoloured parchments and articles from decades before, he rummaged for the magic tool the enigmatic Sage passed on to him. The lifeless transparent orb was found, fitting perfectly in the palm of his hand. This may just be a simple case of paranoia but existing for as long as he has teaches you not to take singularities lightly.

The activation mechanism of the orb is simple, it's dependent on imagination rather than technological means. His thoughts concocted the image of the benevolent _Sage of the South_ , as he dubbed himself. Such trivial formalities held no importance to the isolated drifter.

"Yes?" The voice hints that its owner has been expecting a summons.

He walked back up the staircase to his regular perch overlooking the barren lands forming part of the Wind Tribe's territory. Rain excitedly drums upon the rooftop he sheltered under, the rhythmic hum nearly enough to drown him out, "I take it you sense the change as well."

"That's nothing out of the ordinary," Their connection is audio based only. That's a first. The orb must be malfunctioning. Although, he's glad about the absence of that beaming smile he finds annoying, "It just means your vacation's over."

His scowl went to waste on the Sage who couldn't see through the communication device either. Eyes turned to the rain falling in thin sheets across the landscape. The ground desperately soaked up its first nourishing meal in months, "How long has it been since the end of an era?"

The Sage laughed lightly, "You're the one with all the answers, not me."

"Says the man blessed with ample amounts of wisdom." He mutters.

"I won't deny that," The Sage's jovial response, "However, no one can truly grasp everything there is to know about our universe, don't you agree?"

He dislikes when the Sage redirects everything onto him, "Yet you say I'm the one with all the answers."

"You might as well be considering your role as…apologies, I'm getting ahead of myself." He frowned as the Sage's words fogged his mind. There's no need for a reminder of his position in this world.

He stared upward at the wind chime hanging above his head, silenced by unknown means, "So what will you do?" He touched a single pole of metal, freezing it in place as the others moved in succession to the frigid breeze, "It's the start of a new era."

He imagines the smile on the Sage's lips, "Why be anxious for what the future holds? I'll simply wait and see what fate has in store."

* * *

Dominion of the Red Lions, the kingdom's name of old. That, or the Fanalis Domain. A mighty empire standing at the epicenter of this world's order. Located within the reaches of both Strength Nation and Fire Kingdom's borders, this impregnable fortress has withstood the tests of time for generations. Within this time period of famine and strife, the busy kingdom continues to flourish. Large walls erected since the dawn of the Fanalis Clan, line the kingdom's outer rim. From within, sturdy marble homes and infrastructure sat in neat clusters surrounding the extensive masterpiece known as the Red Lion Royal Palace. The most distinguishable feature of every citizen within this domain would be their bold scarlet tresses, ruby eyes and of course overwhelming strength surpassing that of any other tribe in the realm, including the proud warriors of Strength Nation who boast of their superior physical prowess.

The sun graciously grants a radiant blessing upon the city. Towns-folk went along their daily lives through the clean streets of the kingdom. Children ran here and there, weaving around thick bushes dotted with snow white flowers, all the while their parents work tirelessly to afford them the leisure of having a fun-filled youthful life. Sadly, not everyone has that free spirit to do as they please. Even at the age of adolescence – and the coming years as she blooms into a fine adult – she'll always and forever will be considered just that, a child.

"It's past eight, Princess. Get up," The young royal never budged, clinging to her state of slumber for just a little longer, "Lady Morgiana, I will not tolerate this. It's unbecoming of a young lady like yourself to be this tardy. Your guardian awaits your presence downstairs."

A moan mingles within her yawn as Morgiana rolled off her back to a sitting position. Light flooded in from her open windows, the temperature slightly warmer than usual. She blinked twice, rubbing the remnants of sleep from her eyes while a certain pesky servant tapped her foot indignantly for the past minute, "I keep telling you, you'll never find a good husband at this rate." Here she goes again.

Why Morgiana must be subjected to such a grouchy teacher, she'll never figure out. Of course Myron is indeed great at her job of educating the young heiress to the Fanalis Domain. However, Morgiana doesn't care. Why does it matter if she's not like your average princess, groomed to perfection like the dainty flowers hailing from the other territories across the land. She's a daughter of the Alexius Family, a prominent name superior to every existing royal family. Yet, the red head can't hold a candle to someone like the flawless Princess Kougyoku of the Water Kingdom. Morgiana's simply not into all the formalities that come with bearing such responsibility for an entire Kingdom. Sure her people suspect that she's the smiling, elegant young lady who gets everything she so desires served on a stainless silver platter but there's more to her than waving at her happy citizens and getting all she owns from her parent.

We're not given a choice as to where we're born or if we should even be alive in the first place. Social standings, ethnicity, why do such matters define us? Who has the right to reign and rule over another's actions? She begged the question during her last lesson on World History. The answer given, "Irrelevant question. Moving on."

Of course, Morgiana's been blessed. Time and time again those who are allowed to approach the princess make their heartfelt yet backbiting comments, "Must be nice to be princess of the whole world." "I wish I was like you, Lady Morgiana." "If only I wasn't born the way I was. Ah well." They can flash ivory white teeth as much as possible, it still won't conceal their jealously. Man's heart is wicked after all. You can truly never know what hides underneath his façade of deception.

The red haired princess slips off her untidy bed, _'It's always husband this, husband that.'_ Morgiana's never seen Myron flaunting off an engagement ring either. That's the last thing on her mind, if not at all. Her teacher's been pressing Morgiana's father about finding suitable candidates from the noble houses of the kingdom for months now. Morgiana's glad the words fall on deaf ears. Who wants to get married at fourteen years old, for political means none-the-less? Myron has this vain imagination of some prince whisking her away someday, a man who'll love her along with her scars – the spoils of defending this Kingdom years ago as she formed part of the Fanalis Corps under the rule of Muu Alexius, Morgiana's father. Myron's at least double Morgiana's age yet the Princess is the one who understands that barely anyone marries anymore unless they reap some sort of benefit from their spouse. Besides, marrying into the royal family means that whoever's chosen will be King after father. Meaning they have to put a lot into their marriage proposal to appease her parent or they walk out with the sting of rejection.

That about sums up why Morgiana doesn't care who the next King will be nor cares for the string of words from Myron which were meant to inflict a burn on the red head.

"Will you, with that rotten personality." Morgiana kicked her slippers to the side, preferring to walk barefooted on the cold ceramic tiles.

Myron's anger rose, "E-excuse me young lady!"

Morgiana would've given a retort but she'd rather not give Myron another reason to complain ten times a day to the king over every little thing she did wrong. Her blue nightgown was swapped for a plain white dress better suited for breakfast with father.

"You're always surrounded by that brute," She's making reference to Morgiana's personal guard, Lo'lo', "It's no wonder your manners have been deplorable as of late. Why not make friends with some of the other royals, like Princess Kougyoku for instance?"

Morgiana scowled at the mention of the famed Water Princess, "That's not happening."

"Come on, why not?" Myron revels in her ignorance, "She's a very sweet girl, so polite whenever she visits the Kingdom with her father. You can learn a thing or two from her."

 _'Yeah, how to be self-centered and obnoxious.'_ "Not happening," Morgiana obviously has her reasons. As graceful and stunning as Princess Kougyoku may be, that can never mask the interior of her cold hearted soul. She may have others fooled but spending a day with her…you don't want to spend a day, not even a second in her company. Morgiana didn't wait for Myron to open the door, "besides, there's nothing wrong with Lo'lo'."

"My name." He grins – he always wears a grin – poking the princess in the middle of her forehead while standing under the doorframe.

His childish antics never cease to cast a smile on Morgiana's features. She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, "That's assault you know."

His head lolled to the side mockingly, "Really? What, you'll have me replaced? Executed?"

"You should be," Myron marches up to him, eyes narrowed, "Don't you think it's impolite to enter the Princess' room unannounced?" Like she just did a minute ago?

Lo'lo' rolled his eyes. His sights caught the floor, "Have I?" The threshold remains uncrossed by his large feet. He offered Morgiana an arm as he always does, "Shall we?"

Myron grunted her disapproval, "That is also inappropriate behavior, Lo'lo'. I won't have you corrupting Lady Morgiana any further." Too late. He sprinted down the hall with the Princess keeping up the pace at his side.

They came to rest near their destination. Morgiana untangles their arms, "She'll complain about you again."

"It's all she does." Lo'lo' didn't seem to be bothered.

Morgiana flexed her feet after that light exercise, blood pumping vigorously through her veins. She takes a while to recover from the thrill of action, "She says I'll become a mini Lo'lo' if you keep staying around me."

He laughed, a thick hearty chuckle, "What's wrong with that? Now if there were two Myron's I'd seriously quit my job."

"Never in my life will I be like her." Morgiana walked past Lo'lo' and into the dining hall entrance.

"Enjoy your meal, My Princess." He bowed as she left him on his lonesome.

"Thank you." As is customary, she curtseyed politely and strode inside.

Seated in wait for his child's late arrival was the dignified ruler of the Fanalis Domain: Muu Alexius. "Apologies for the delay, father." Morgiana bowed with a frown, repentant of her tardiness.

"That's alright Morgiana. Take a seat," Muu smiled like a champion, banishing the apology as they partook of the meal laid out before them at the small table prepped to perfection. Fresh delicacies from across the land covered the table, the tantalizing scent activating taste buds before the food could taint the tongue, "I have some exciting news."

Morgiana sat in anticipation for the announcement setting father in such a good mood. She placed the ceramic teacup in hand on its designated saucer. The king beamed, "I've cancelled all your classes today."

The heavy silence enveloping the room marked Morgiana's surprise. Her smile matched that of her father's, "Really?" The shocking revelation seemed too good to be true. Morgiana's excitement died, there must be more to this scenario.

"That's right. I've been thinking about this for a while now and you're already fourteen years old. We have to consider the future of the kingdom and so in that regard I've invited suitable candidates from distinguished noble families who will be interviewed for the position of your betrothed. Isn't that exciting?"

Morgiana's emotions took a drastic one eighty degree turn, "You can't be serious."

"Of course I am," He clearly missed the disdain on her face, "Myron can finally stop harassing me."

"But I don't want to be married...not yet at the very least." Sounds like he cares for the interests of Myron over his own daughter.

"Morgiana, you must understand that this isn't about you. Think about the kingdom, our people. The ones who will come to be dependent on your actions in the future." Muu stated in a gentle yet firm manner. He reached out, brushing loose strands of hair from her face. She failed to find solace from the king's words, instead her thoughts simmered at the prospect of her future being planned out by her parent. What good is it if people aren't allowed to make their own decisions, left to be swayed by the tides of life inconveniencing what they wish to be their path. Morgiana could release the words threatening to escape her lips but she knew this would lead to a losing argument. She'll always lose, no matter what she did. Having the lives of countless individuals thrust upon her shoulders. Morgiana doesn't think much of herself, how can she ever hope to lead others when she herself has as many flaws as the ones beneath her. Shouldn't a leader be one without scars, with no form of imperfection to their name? Beings like us will always strive to serve under someone mightier than ourselves. It wouldn't take long for Morgiana to be overshadowed by someone of great stature. Maybe this is also why she's being handed over to some stranger against her wishes.

"I know it's a bit sudden Morgiana but I was the same age when I met your mother." She'd rather not sit through the tale of her parents meeting for the first time. Morgiana's sat through it a handful of times, those usually being when father wants to make a point. The late queen wasn't the most sophisticated of noblemen's daughter's. Her rough edges seemed to have ensnared the king - a humble prince at the time - and so, fast forwarding into the present, everything currently happening now is the work of their arranged engagement.

Morgiana could no longer stomach the chef's handiwork, the tastes gone bland as with her unfavorable mood, "We won't be engaged right away, right?"

"Of course not. It could take weeks before the right candidate is selected," father explained as he too was done with breakfast, "Considering the hundreds of possibilities to choose from-"

"Hundreds?" The number mismatched her assumed guess of ten, maybe twenty people.

Thus the grooming began. Morgiana wore her usual mask of indifference while her wardrobe and hair were done. She kept her annoyance to a minimum otherwise Myron's overzealous mood would dissipate. Her tutor hummed a sweet melody while sifting through Morgiana's wide range of available dresses and priceless articles of clothing. Myron never ceases to amaze the princess who watched her gleeful attendant pull out a rosy red and white ensemble. Catching a glimpse of Morgiana's visage cast a shadow of suspicion on Myron's face, "Why am I the only one in the room who's excited?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Morgiana fell back, landing safely on her bed. Ruby tresses spread across her white sheets as she stared at the ceiling with a sigh.

Morgiana felt the depression on her mattress when Myron sat next to her, "To be honest, I hate when you're all gloomy Morgiana. It means I'm not doing my job right."

Morgiana rolled to the left, "It's not your fault."

The princess was no match for Myron's strength. She tugged on Morgiana's arm, rolling the princess to the right and their eyes meet, "You may not realize it now but for all you know, the man you'll marry will turn out to be the love of your life." Morgiana said nothing in return. She allowed Myron to do as the joyful attendant pleased, the end result enough to make even Lo'lo' comment.

"Wow. For once you look like an actual princess." Morgiana frowned his way but it only lasted for a second. Her personal guard leaned on the doorframe, impressed by Myron's handiwork.

Myron on the other hand didn't take too kind to his presence but retained her focus on Morgiana, "All done." Morgiana observed the outfit in the mirror, it doesn't suit her at all. She'd rather something plain as oppose to the intricate workings of this dress. She'd complain about the heels but Morgiana would be wasting her breath. Myron abandoned Morgiana to the hands of Lo'lo' while she tidied the room. Her escort dropped her off to the throne room, the king trapped in conversation with a servant as the princess sauntered up to one of two seats tailor made for the heirs of the kingdom.

Morgiana took rest beside her father, the cold of the armrest crept up her exposed arms. She's taken a liking to her older brother's chair. He passed away not too long ago in a training incident. If Masrur were still alive, he'd be the one sitting through this and not Morgiana. He wouldn't complain, that's just his selfless nature. Masrur wasn't very outspoken, however, his actions spoke louder, bolder than mere words. Stronger than the average Fanalis, Masrur didn't sit idle in the palace as does Morgiana. He fought valiantly for the peace of the kingdom, his strength rivaling that of Lo'lo'. He even taught his younger sister a few moves when father turned a blind eye to his children's free time – the secret lessons now left in the hands of Morgiana's personal guard every once in a while after midnight looms over the palace grounds. They all anticipated great things from Masrur but his untimely demise cut short those expectations.

Morgiana sat up, poised flawlessly as Myron instructed, when the candidates began entering the room one by one. Lo'lo' led them in, his smile unnerved some if not most of the flock as they made their presentations. Some were tall, others short in stature, a few showcased a multitude of scars. Many showed off their good points in the form of strength, looks, education. Factors such as those are considered a bonus to Morgiana. Handsome appearances don't mean anything if your personality's the complete opposite. The auditions went on for over an hour, Morgiana could barely keep her proper posture going. As much as her father found something intriguing about the acts of the young men coming in and out of the throne room, Morgiana found amusing the actions of Lo'lo' standing at the back. A laugh escaped lightly glossed lips when a candidate sang the poem he wrote specifically for the red haired princess, Lo'lo's mocking reenactment distracted her and caused the outburst which the boy for some reason took pleasure in.

Finally, the king called it a day. Morgiana can relax. She slumped in her seat, shaking out her shoe bound feet due to poor blood circulation.

"Anyone caught your eye, Morgiana?" No. She is not having a conversation like that with her father.

"Um…not really, no." She didn't lie. Sure some of the candidates have their pedigrees on point but they were…boring, for lack of a better word.

He clamped a large hand over Morgiana's head, disheveling her red locks. She couldn't help her smile, "The second set of candidates should be here on the morrow," Morgiana's smile recedes to an expected frown, "but for now, what are your plan for the afternoon since you have some free time?"

She didn't know. The last time Morgiana's ever had a free afternoon was…was…um, was…yeah, never. Wait, if he's asking then, "Nothing. Do you have something in mind?" She tried as best as she could to suppress her expectations. With the princess being the princess and the king performing all his royal daily duties, they barely ever get time to build on that solid father-daughter relationship.

"As a matter of fact, an associate of mine is on his way here and his eldest son will be accompanying him." She mentally face palmed.

Morgiana's head jerked to the left, escaping her father's hand, "So I'll have to entertain his son?"

"I'd use a different word rather than entertain, but you get the point." The king stood, holding out a hand to his child.

Morgiana begrudgingly accepts the gesture all the while masking her brewing negative emotions, "Of course." She accompanies the king out of the throne room. Staring out a large open window, Morgiana noted the drop in temperature and dark clouds threatening to overcast the once warm sky. Funny how the elements changed along with her current mood. If she didn't know better, Morgiana would come to the silly conclusion that she were one of The Gifted, a select few who've been blessed with abilities beyond human comprehension. Some call it witchcraft, others simply call it magic. The world's most renowned scholars termed this unusual phenomenon something a little less whimsical: The Essence. It's said that eons ago, this land once barren was blessed by an unknown entity. People began performing miracles beyond their understanding. Some said they could use natural water as a healing agent, or split the ground in two with unimaginable strength. These strange powers are what separate this land into the Eight Territories of Old. Although, it's just folklore, tall tales passed down through generations like age old bed time stories. The moment Morgiana sees someone harness the power of fire in their very hands would mean that the world is coming to an end. Yet she'll admit that that would be a spectacle to witness.

"I was hoping that we could...never mind." He's busy ruling a kingdom, Morgiana. What do you expect? She dipped her head.

Muu Alexius was many things. Oblivious to his daughter's feelings was not one of them. This distance between them is one of the reasons why she's slowly developing a rebellious streak, according to Myron. He slowed his pace, forcing Morgiana to do the same, "Listen Mor," Wow, he hasn't called her that in a while. Her mother did so frequently. Muu buried the thought, "My colleague won't be here for very long so why don't we..." He has no idea what her likes are, "do something. Anything, your choice, later this evening?"

"You mean it?" His smile was her answer.

Dreary clouds may hang over the kingdom but they could do nothing to set Morgiana's mood astray. She made no qualms about meeting the nobleman's son, even Myron was impressed with the princess' positive energy. She sat almost comfortably at lunch with the boy known as Yaqut. He was tall, the length of his hair rivaling that of the princess who never expected to have a decent conversation with the young man. They currently strode idly through the northern gardens.

"So you're the first of two?" Morgiana kept their long conversation going. He'd ask a question then she'd toss out another.

"That's right," Yaqut's hair floated in the passing wind. The breeze is wilder than usual. They should probably head back inside, "I have a younger sister."

"Must be nice having a sibling," That came out wrong, considering Yaqut's change of face as if he nearly stepped on a landmine, "I mean, someone younger to take care of."

"Well, yes. Though, Razol can be very...difficult to deal with. She tends to enjoy rough housing rather than the norm for girls her age," Morgiana wants to meet this girl, "She might be around the same age as you are. Maybe next time she'll accompany father and myself."

"She's more than welcome to." Morgiana states politely and Yaqut smiles broadly.

"So what are your interests, Lady Morgiana?" She appreciates how smoothly he moved on from the sibling topic to another.

"Well, I don't have many-" She froze for a mere second before whipping around. Yaqut fell into silence also, his large hand felt for the longsword at his side.

"Shall we take our conversation indoors?"Yaqut suggests, gingerly touching the princess' shoulder as garnet eyes dart about furiously. Morgiana was more than happy to oblige, the sudden crawl of her skin was unnerving. A downpour is on its way too.

 _SNAP!_

Her face collides with dirt in less than a second. The frantic sound of clashing steel rung in her ears along with the pain from that unforeseen impact. Morgiana scrambles to her feet, mentally cursing the inventor of high heeled footwear. Yaqut must have pushed her out of the way of the weapon currently wrapped around the noble's sword, it's likeness that of an oddly shaped dart suspended along a thin red wire. A swift tug on the rope sent the sword spiraling out of the bulky Fanalis' grasp. The greenery before them shivers just as a white figure erupts from its depths. Red wires suspended in the atmosphere surrounding it.

Morgiana's mind took longer than usual to assess the situation, slowly recovering from its stunned state. Yaqut sprung before her, shaking Morgiana out of her short lived daze.

"Run!" His screech unintentionally harsh as two fast moving darts encircle his right arm and leg. Morgiana quickly backtracked, nearly falling several times as she took no thought of the path she's treading on blindly. She watched wide eyed when Yaqut tugged viciously on the strings, muscles engorged with might, sending his assailant into the air. That did little to subdue the white coated individual who expertly used the momentum to his advantage. He commands his arsenal of wires, securely holding Yaqut while restricting the man's control over his dominant arm. Moving in with a hidden dagger once concealed by his rags, the attacker struck!

Morgiana had no time to think about her actions. Yaqut was in danger, one of her people. No, not just that but there's someone right in front of her who'll be ripped apart in a matter of seconds. The realization sank in and her body responded with a will of its own. She sprints forward until within range. Her left foot as a pivot, Morgiana ducked low, springing upwards with as much force as she could muster. Her foot swipes across the silent killer's face, tossing him into a nearby tree. He was so focused on the male Fanalis – his stagnant prey – that he failed to see the princess's inadvertent maneuver. Morgiana whips around, her heartbeat steadily falling back in place. Yaqut pried the ropes off his skin, sinking to his knees a second later. A ferocious hacking cough escaped his lips, spewing a small pool of thick blood along with it.

"Yaqut, what's wrong?" Morgiana inspects his features once she took hold of his injured right arm. Thin cuts from the wires engraft themselves into his tan skin. The young man's eyes were dazed, lighter in colour. His lips parted, traces of crimson leaking out in rivers.

"Lady Morgiana...run...away." He instantly went limp at his final words. Yaqut's body weight nearly crushes the princess who slips from under him. Rigor mortis settled faster than it should have. Poison, a potent one at that.

The assassin aroused from the trunk of the tree which must have broken a few ribs. Red tainted the off white bandages veiling the lower half of his face. A hasty sliver of red and silver shot towards her. Morgiana gasps, failing to get out of the way on her own. Whoever created high heels is a lifesaver. The once tall right side of her shoes was now flat as the heel broke off, sinking Morgiana to the ground. The unknown assailant slowly regains his footing, the slightest limp could be seen of his left foot. He plastered both hands together reverently, head bowed, "It is an honor, Lady Morgiana." Cold obsidian eyes ensnare the princess for a second, all the time he needs for his next onslaught. All formalities forgotten, his weapons snake away from Yaqut's lifeless form, rising into the air.

It might be self-preservation or vengeance at its finest which tapped into a slumbering form of the princess which no one's ever seen. She expertly rolled to the right, standing on her hands, performing a dangerous backflip through the air. Morgiana flung the not-so-broken other half of her footwear after the shining pincers with such precision, it even sent her into mild shock.

She knows when it comes to skill she could never hold a candle to the man swiftly rearranging his weaponry in midair. Morgiana must retreat. She's not a fighter, at least not a seasoned warrior. The miniscule minutes of training with her brother and guard were nothing in the sight of someone such as the brooding figure quickly catching up to her.

 _'Never give your opponent your back.'_ One of the many lessons taught by Masrur. What she lacks in experience, Morgiana makes up for by her knowledge of the battlefield. She ducks below the thick undergrowth of finely trimmed hedges, thankful for her small frame which nimbly weaves through the greenery. Her stalker excelled in concealing his undesirable presence. Morgiana could no longer hear him, no longer sense him. Vicious pangs attack her ribs as fear clawed at the panting princess. She couldn't use the main entrances to get back inside, she'd be left wide open to attack. Ears perk up at the grievous groan of a feeble branch breaking on her left. A glint of steel comes into view, snagging at the stem of a small tree which could have been Morgiana's ankle had a second ago not elapsed. He was close. Too close. She won't…make it, but she had to try. Her destination was within reach. The problem was shaking off the man's pursuit. She ducked once a thin branch attempted to slow her movements. Morgiana takes a clumsy right turn through the forest. Maybe…

A sharp stone finds itself in her hand. Morgiana didn't have the best aim, but this is better than nothing she supposed. The rock zoomed through the bushes in the direction opposing hers and she stopped, abruptly flattening herself to the ground. An ache erupts from her side as she came to a much needed rest, strenuous fatigue settles across her frame. She reminds herself, however, that she's not out of the woods yet. Literally. Her rib cage receives a small peace of mind once Morgiana's heart rate drops ever so slightly. Eyes scan the grounds for anything out of the ordinary. The only sounds being the leaves swaying above and her jagged breath she pleaded to remain silent.

This all happened so fast. Where did that man come from? What is his purpose? Why kill…?

That's right. Yaqut is…

 _'No'_ , cried her inward sobs. He didn't do anything to deserve this fate. Why?

Morgiana unfurled the crushed blades of grass which stain her quivering hands. As much as she tried, her hands, arms, everything was shaking. The world trembles, a never ending quake that paralyses the princess. A tremor that refuses to subside. Morgiana doesn't know how much time has passed, but the glass shattering screech that flooded the airwaves broke her body out of the confines of her inner prison of fear. She shakily sat up on bruised knees. Now that her senses are no longer numb, she picks up other sounds permeating the atmosphere. Not only that but the putrid scent of…sulphur and…something else, filled the air. She had to find somebody, anybody. Anyone who can tell her that all of this isn't real. That she's still comfortably bundled in sleep, dreaming. That there were no suitors waiting in line to take her hand in marriage. No assassins roaming around the grounds in search of prey. No…dead body in the garden…no…blood…

After the uncontrollable seize of her stomach and a light dizzy spell, Morgiana's sustenance from earlier claws its way up her throat. She vomits. Unsteadily crawling away from the site of a desecrated shrub, she arises with the brush of her dirtied arm across slightly ajar lips. Morgiana's movements were sluggish at best. The eerie sensation of being watched inflicts yet another frigid chill up her neck. Her thoughts drift to that shriek from earlier. Was it from the castle? Is everyone safe? Father…

A rapid surge of energy coerces Morgiana forward. She took no thought for stealth. The aching desire to see her father urged the princess to get back to the palace as quickly as possible. She'd use the hidden entrance nearby, a small opening expertly concealed by a large thicket surrounding one of the castle walls near the kitchens. She discovered it not too long ago. Bushes and twigs part once the princess carefully shifts through the greenery, eyes set on the little window barring her means of entry. The window opens easily with a gentle push of both hands to the opaque piece of glass. The princess slips inside, precariously dropping through ten feet of air until swollen feet made contact with the dusty floor. A cloud of soot tickles her nose and blinds her vision of the underground wine cellar. Frantic footfalls echo from above, mingled with the cruel cries of agony no doubt originating from the royal family's attendants throughout the castle.

She finds the short stairwell leading up to the exit, bursting the aged door open on impact. Meeting the distorted gaze of a bulky man she's never witnessed inside the castle froze her to the spot just as he was, but only momentarily as a flash of steel poked out from his side. A greedy smirk plays on the stranger's lips as he takes two steps forward, matching the princess' backward strides, "Finally found you, Princess. How shameful to be hiding in the basement like a little mouse." He slurs, reveling in some form of unknown amusement.

The dangerous threat dangling from his right hand was enough to spur Morgiana's footsteps. She made a mad dash to the left while the man's guard was down, evading him with ease. Never should you underestimate 'little mice'.

A burning pain stabs the top of Morgiana's head. Tighter, remorseless, the stranger pulls on her thick tendrils of scarlet caught within the web of his large free hand. An unwanted cry of torment escapes her lips. Morgiana inwardly curses herself for showcasing such weakness out in the open. Viciously, he yanks Morgiana towards him, the deathly weapon equipped in his grasp inches near her throat. Closer, closer.

Her movements were fluid, unlike anything she's ever felt before. Leaping with both feet, Morgiana lands a solid blow to the man's torso. His heavy body flew into the wall at the end of the hall, cracking the concrete structure which fused with his unconscious form. Morgiana fell to both knees, inhaling deep breaths after that encounter. A sudden pool of red coated the tiles around her. Morgiana brushes both hands through her once lengthy scarlet hair. Myron's string of uncouth curses were already rewinding in Morgiana's mind. Luckily she got out of that without sustaining any permanent damage.

Ears perk up at the sound of more footsteps coming from the adjacent hall. Another confrontation with an enemy is the last thing she needs right now. Being at father's side is all that matters. Morgiana runs as fast as she could, away from the oncoming mass of bodies closing in. Her hearing's never been this way, as though she could see what's directly in front of her using her ears. There's someone nearby. She'd take her chances against a single enemy versus a group. Her footfalls slow to a gallant tiptoe. She knows they're there, her one advantage. Morgiana flattens herself to the smooth wall, blood boiling with anticipation as she awaits her target's arrival. Three seconds, two, one…

Air was expelled out of her lungs in a heartbeat. Morgiana's stomach lurched for the second time today, the impact of her back hitting the wall broke a body part somewhere. She was so disoriented she couldn't even tell where the pain was coming from. There's something pressing her to the wall, letting go a second later. A regretful voice declares, "My lady!" Never has a sweeter sound touched her ears like the sound of Lo'lo's voice. She tried to speak but couldn't. Morgiana settles for burying her head into his chest, failing to wrap her damaged right arm around him, "Princess…Morgiana." Lo'lo' took her up in both arms, his voice weaker than she's ever heard. She winced when he crushes her to his side.

"You're hurt." He said on inspecting her, "Your hair!" Lo'lo's hand trails along Morgiana's now shoulder length tresses, "Who…who did this!" Her personal guard trembles with a mixture of emotions Morgiana didn't dare understand.

"It's alright." She spoke softly, taking hold of Lo'lo's right shoulder to calm him, "Only my arm hurts a little but I'm okay." Morgiana fails to smile in reassurance.

Traces of regret cross Lo'lo's visage, making Morgiana bite her tongue, "I didn't know it was you. I'm…so sorry, My Lady. I can break my own arm as recompense for-"

"What are you saying?!" Morgiana says above his tone, "What good would that do if someone attacks us?"

Lo'lo' ponders the princess' words, scooping Morgiana into both his arms with his answer, "This is why you're the wise royal and not me. To think you don't see yourself as a proper heir to the throne, Princess."

"It takes more than wisdom to be a good ruler Lo'lo'." She responds, allowing herself the comfort of being carried. She would have protested if this were a regular day.

Lo'lo' runs away from the footsteps they both hear echoing down the hall, "Now, to get you out of here."

"What?" Her voice shuddered, jostled by Lo'lo's speedy movements, "But what about father?"

"You should be more concerned about your own safety, My Lady." Lo'lo's response was the incorrect one.

Morgiana squirms in Lo'lo's grip, "No. We have to find father."

"I'm following your father's orders, not mine." Lo'lo' wasn't happy about the situation either. Morgiana can understand, he's simply carrying out his duties. However.

"Lo'lo'." She stares into his eyes with burning conviction, "You're _my_ personal guard before being father's right hand. He gave you the job of dealing with my requests and this is one of them. We are going to find the king and insubordination will not be tolerated."

He took a right at the next hallway intersection, grinning as usual, "Tell me again how you won't be the next queen, My Lady?" She won't be, she doesn't want it.

"Be silent." She grumbles below her breath, resting her temples to his chest.

Lo'lo' laughs it off, "I think what you're trying to say is, shut up. Although," He clears his throat, Morgiana can sense the Myron impression coming along, "that would be unladylike of you, Lady Morgiana."

Morgiana almost smiles but a thought came to mind, "Do you know anything about her whereabouts?"

Lo'lo' shook his head in response, his sharp features grim, "You should be concerned about whoever the poor soul is who crosses her path right about now. Even I'm not mad enough to take on Myron when she's pissed. I mean upset."

"I don't mind your informalities, Lo'lo'." A great way for Morgiana to understand some of the norms floating around the common folk that are never a part of her daily lessons.

"Strangest princess ever." He didn't speak to Morgiana in particular.

"Lo'lo'," Morgiana grips a portion of his toned left arm, "let me down now." There's someone nearby. He didn't seem to understand her caution. Morgiana cuts him off before words escape Lo'lo', "Someone's near." He stops immediately, carefully setting Morgiana on her feet.

"How did you know?" He asks, eyeing the princess with a stare she's never witnessed from her personal guard.

"It's just…a feeling." She describes it loosely.

Lo'lo's interest on the matter casts a proud smile on his face. His ruby eyes scan the hall, "He's been hanging around us for a while now, even before we found each other," Morgiana's glad Lo'lo isn't under the impression that the princess is hallucinating, "His presence comes and goes."

"How do you know it's a man?" Morgiana loops her good arm with Lo'lo's, drawing nearer.

"The scent. It's why I sort of went easy on you since I knew I was dealing with a woman. Well, girl." Morgiana scowls, "What? You're still a kid, why are you even offended?" She refuses him the answer. That's for going easy on her.

"Moving on," She brushes Lo'lo's commentary aside, "Our pursuer." At the utterance of those words, Lo'lo' unsheathed his silver sword, crashing the formidable weapon onto a gleaming steel blade just out of Morgiana's reach. The Fanalis captain parried his opponent's weapon, taking the princess into his arms and withdrawing to the opposite end of the hall in the span of a single breath. Morgiana was thrust to Lo'lo's back, her personal guard shielding her from the oncoming threat standing before them.

"I was under the impression that you Fanalis lot were mere barehanded warriors," A cheerful voice greets them along with a striking smile from the silver haired man closing the distance between them, "Finally, a worthy opponent."

Lo'lo' withdraws his steel, plunging the weapon back to its slender sheath at his side, "Swords aren't really my thing."

"Seems that way. I could've easily slit your throat out by now but I was hoping for a good fight. Since you had no problems denying my first request for a match, I doubt you'd be interested in my second but," The man stops his steps at a reasonable distance, withdrawing his own blade, "care to lend a listening ear?" The sword once sheathed at the man's side glistened at Lo'lo's neck. Morgiana didn't see him move. How did he clear the distance without being seen? "I want the princess."

Morgiana's eyes must be malfunctioning. She blinked once and the assailant was being crushed to the wall at Morgiana's back. Scarlet droplets stain the floor, the dark skinned man's torso being crushed by Lo'lo's upper body. Thick pools of blood now congregate at the feet of both men, their source…

"Lo'lo!" Morgiana screams, the gash across her guard's body making a mess of her insides. His armor, now sliced through like rags, hung from his sagging body. Mingled with Lo'lo's blood was the life essence of the unknown swordsman who nearly chokes on the crimson fluid. Both men were motionless, still. Caught in a deadlock. Lo'lo' releases the swordsman's blade which slices deeply through his palm. Her guard's opponent followed, freeing himself of the metallic weapon caked with blood. Lo'lo' staggers away from his foe, his gaze locked onto the princess. She saw the instant change of his features as they morph into dread.

"I turn my attention away from you for twenty minutes and this is how I find you?" Morgiana's senses grew increasingly attentive at that voice, "Pitiful."

"No don't turn around!" Lo'lo's commanding yell froze Morgiana to the spot. A cold sweat broke out across her brow as time passes silently. Morgiana could only stare into the feral eyes of her personal guard who was more interested in the figure standing behind her.

"I can just leave you here to die," The white clad assassin from earlier stood directly at Morgiana's right, "but that would be troublesome. Sin sees you as an important asset for his future plans so your usefulness isn't completely depleted just yet." Something sharp pokes the princess at her back, even while the assassin strides confidently towards Lo'lo', "Fanalis. I propose a trade. The useless swordsman for the princess. I'll even throw in this." A female body bound in red thread was callously tossed to the floor near Morgiana. Scarlet eyes burned at their corners when Morgiana drops to the ground beside the woman, Lo'lo's protests of staying still all forgotten, "Although, she'll be dead in minutes."

Morgiana could hardly make out Myron's face through the fog of tears clouding her vision. Poison-laced red wires withdraw from her limp body. Her teacher panted heavily, unable to move as the poison made quick work of her insides. Myron's tanned skin tone faded with each passing second, "Myron." The princess trembles.

"Mor…" Myron's quaking arm arose from her side, to simply fall back to the floor, "Please…cape…" It was difficult to make out her words, "we…need…yo…t…" Her last breath subsides.

Morgiana heard Lo'lo's deafening screams which died soon after. His body making swift contact with the ground. The white clad man's weaponry slice through the air and back to their master's side.

"Lady Morgiana." The assassin's voice, "It isn't safe for a princess to be out in the open in a place like this. Please do take care." Morgiana affords him her attention. The white cloaked man hoisters up his companion, nagging profanities at the unconscious swordsman as they leave the hall.

"Myron." Morgiana whips around at Lo'lo's voice. Her personal guard slowly rose to his knees, stroking the dead's head with a finger. He stands onto both feet and takes hold of the princess. No words pass between the two, just silence. Myron is…gone. Many others having possibly joined her. What if father…

"Please be okay." Morgiana's shaky grip on Lo'lo' must be causing him pain but he didn't complain.

They were quickly on their way to the throne room. Soon, she'll see father and everything will be okay. He'll clamp his large hand over her head like always, smile like a star and melt all her worries away. They took another right turn and made it to the throne room entrance. The doors have been loosened from their hinges and debris from the broken walls cluttered the pathway. Through the nauseating carnage littering the hallway, Morgiana saw it. Father's sword – its pommel crafted in the likeness of a carnivorous lion's head. Lo'lo' slowed to a stop at the sight of his men. Brothers in arms, all murdered prematurely. Morgiana witnesses the despair clawing at his face and easily slips from his grasp. She too could fell the weight of sorrow as familiar faces who've served the royal family diligently for years were now forever creased with uncontrollable fear and pain at the sight of death. Morgiana expected Lo'lo's call when she passed near the lifeless bodies to capture father's sword where it lay. She wonders why it was here and not at the faithful side of its wielder. The sword thinly coated with a garnet hue across its deadly blade. The same sword used to…decapitate…

She nearly dropped the accursed weapon when her heightened screams were muffled by Lo'lo's large hand on her mouth, his other hand caught her by the waist and they were on the move. She trashed about, trying her hardest to be set free but Lo'lo' denies her that freedom.

"Over there!" Someone yells, drawing attention to the pair of red heads.

A colourful curse escapes Lo'lo's lips when he enters an open door. Father's study. Father…

Her screams grow beyond the boundary of Lo'lo's hand, tears tracing the fingers that cover Morgiana's avid cries. Lo'lo' dashes behind the final bookshelf, hastily uncovering a trapdoor beneath the ruby red carpet at his feet. He drops Morgiana inside first then swiftly follows, closing the way behind him. If she was expecting such a drop, Morgiana wouldn't have landed on her fractured arm. Sobs and tears flowed profusely from the princess who was taken up none-too-gently by Lo'lo'. He led her down a dark, dank pathway, another of the castle's secrets she had yet to discover. Morgiana could hear the sounds of footsteps trailing behind them and Lo'lo' moved faster.

"Lo'lo'." Her voice weak. She kept repeating his name but the guard never responds.

He stops when they reach a dead end, or so she thought. Lo'lo' uses the last ounce of strength his body holds and with the loudest grunt possible, bursts through a trapdoor leading to the outside. Light pours in, expelling the darkness which once plagued the princess' eyesight. She was propped up onto the grassy lawn of what appears to be beyond the castle gates. When Lo'lo' makes no movement to follow suit, Morgiana lends him a hand, one her personal guard refuses. His grim facial expression shifts to one of glee as Lo'lo's signature smirk plays on his face, "Well, my lady, it was my pleasure to be of service to you."

"What?" No, what's he saying!

His smile drops and Lo'lo' turns his back on the princess, "I'll hold them back so you can escape."

"No…no! I…you can't just-" "Morgiana!" His scream slices through her bitter ranting.

His final look at her disheartened face, dark red eyes filled with a mismatched brew of emotion, Lo'lo' spoke in a voice so low it was a miracle she heard him, "Avenge us, Princess." The trapdoor was sealed by his strength.

"Lo'lo'!" Morgiana took hold of the door but failed to pry it open. Even father's sword, coupled with her strength, formed not a dent in its sturdy frame.

"It came from over there!"

A multitude of men scouting the area nearly found her. Morgiana hurries away from them, aching bare feet swollen and bruised by the time she awards herself a break. She slides down the bark of a tree, her lungs near bursting. The princess hugs both feet to her small frame, cradling father's weapon also. The silence permeating the atmosphere made her lonelier than she already was. Everyone's gone. They've all left her side. What was even the point of running away when she could let herself be captured, reunite with everyone she's lost? Father, Mother, Masrur…everyone, "Would you look at that. Found one." Her head snaps up, meeting the sinister smirks of a pair clad in dark cloaks. The steel gleaming in their hands insinuate a shiver across her body, "How much coin do you think this one will fetch us?"

"Don't know. She does have a pretty face. I say she's a keeper."

"You say that about all of them. There's something called being too greedy," The other responds, "She's a noble, we can buy all the slaves and entertainment we need after we're done with her."

They draw closer but Morgiana was rooted to her spot. Her strength was no match for two armed men. She's only the weak, pampered princess who's about to-

Before her very eyes, the two men's footsteps were suddenly halted just as a third stranger materializes behind them. He was tall, covered by an intricately designed robe and long pink hair flowed from his disheveled ponytail. The black fan he held in his hand partially covers his neutral face as the man walks towards Morgiana. He passes through the wide gap between the frozen pair of men who both fall unconscious to the hard ground. The pink haired man sighs, looking down on them with disdain, "It's so unfortunate, how mankind has fallen to such a lowly state of affairs. Don't you agree, Lady Morgiana?" Magenta eyes lock onto frightened scarlet ones, "Worry not, I am far from being your enemy." He stood a foot away from her balled form. The man sweeps his black fan across Morgiana and she ducks for cover, to be enveloped by a faded white light. Fatigue melts away in an instant. The searing pain erupting from her broken arm subsided as though it were never present.

She looks up to meet his eyes, ever passive, ever calculative, "Thank you." Morgiana finds her soft voice.

"Your castle is under siege." He remarks, his sights set on the palace not far from them. The mysterious man's eyes drift back to the princess, "What will you do?"

She refused him an answer until the words come out beyond her control, "What can I do?"

"Hmm." He offers the princess a hand, "I believe that you've already received the answer to that."

 _'Avenge us, Princess.'_ Lo'lo's final words replay in her mind. Morgiana takes the man's offer and stands onto both feet, father's sword feeling easier to carry. She shook her head, both to rid herself of ghastly memories and to answer his claims.

"I also have found the solution to my current predicament. I truly hope that you too will come to the suitable conclusion, when the time is right." Morgiana's vision darkens, the memories of a pink haired man vanishing along with it. However, the events of that day could never be wiped clean from her mind. The castle brought to ruin, her loved ones massacred and the one who sat on father's throne after slaying the king. His mane of rich purple hair, the shade so vivid in her mind that it clung like a miserable stain.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _Magi._

It would take thousands of volumes and just as many lifetimes to capture the historical account of this vast land of magic and mystery. The ages come forth, then come to pass and yet the Eight Territories of old remain a constant. Rich cultures, diverse livelihoods, no two clans are the same. Each holds its own form of strength, it's variance of weakness.

Hailing from the northernmost portion of the land is the graceful Wind Tribe. The cool nature of its inhabitants akin to the fierce, howling winds of the north. The least populated territory in all of Magi, composed of mostly females - one of the reasons why they appear to lack in number - who, like their male counterparts, carry themselves with the utmost dignity. Such as expected of warriors able to hush the winds and bring peace to the most violent of storms.

The Wind Tribe's people may cease the cyclonic winds but the raging seas can only be stilled by none other than the regal kindred of the Water Kingdom. An immaculate domain completely submerged under water, only few outside its borders have even come close to witnessing this majestic city. The citizens of the Water Kingdom too carry a sense of pride. They are the most secluded of the Eight Territories, barely making themselves known outside of their homeland.

Westward resides Sound Nation, every acre of land caressed by a sweet melody that could make the most stone hearted of men weep. Never silent, never stagnant. Its citizens move with inconceivable rhythm, able to ensnare their enemies into complete submission. Nevertheless, Sound Nation is the ideal location if one seeks commercial success. The epitome of the business world as well as the place to be if the nocturnal glamour's of revelry strike your fancy.

Their movements are said to be compelling, hypnotic even. However, once it comes down to speed, the whip-like motions of Lightning Nation's populace can never be bested. By far the most developed Territory amongst the Eight, Lightning Nation continues to thrive upon the astonishing success of their prosperous power plants. Without their ingenious creators of electronic household wares like lamps and other commodities released on the market, the lives of countless humans would be much more difficult than they are now. Their swiftness on the battlefield coupled with strategic deduction make the warriors of Lightning Nation a truly fearsome lot.

Life springs forth from the ground then withers away, returning to the dusty earth. Every living thing, every breathing thing, precious are they to the peacekeepers of the Life Tribe. Serenity is their calling, tranquility their wordless mantra. A tribe unlike any other. Its members tend to the land of the living as a doting parent cares for their child. Though their scarce numbers dwindle, the people of this tribe have been blessed with gifts rivalling that of the sacred deities who have charged them with an holy occupation: aiding life to flourish across the land. With the current status of the land, however, one has to wonder about the ever elusive tribe members who roam Magi as the wandering nomads they are.

Everyone has their strengths, be it wits, appearances. Brute strength ultimately fell into the hands of the notorious Strength Nation. Unyielding, powerful men and women of valor who gloat of their unparalleled might. The warriors of Strength Nation are a compassionate people with a lust for battle. Proud, loud, their strength lies not in their power only but also in their abundant outpouring of camaraderie and deep sense of relationship. They are strong physically, mentally and emotionally. A package that is truly one of a kind.

Nuzzled within the desert conditions of Magi's north east, a Territory looms among the sandy wastelands and blistering heatwaves. The Fire Kingdom. Hardworking, flexible fighters who are able to heat things up by setting the smallest spark ablaze. Their heat can never be sated, inflicting their enemies like the harsh, unforgiving rays of the noonday sun. Another trait of this lively Territory being the supposed guarantee of a flushed face on those lucky enough to gaze upon their skillfully crafted physiques.

Every Territory is different. Fire, Wind, Lightning, Life, Sound, Water, Strength. However, the last but certainly not the least is the infamous Tribe of the Red Lions.

"Mor? Morgiana?" A gentle touch grazes her slender arm. Ruby eyes snap towards a sapphire eyed gaze, traced with worry. His lips tug slightly at the corners and he brushes off the thin trail of a tear rolling down her cheek, "We can read another book if you want." He suggests, turning to the next page of the soaked volume laying between them. She didn't even realize she was crying.

How long has it been since tears have streamed down Morgiana's face? That's right, the last time a certain kingdom came to mind. Those brief instances when her thoughts wandered to a civilization long forgotten, left behind to remain documented within the annals of time. She shakes her head, answering her waiting companion, "No, let's keep going."

His doubt morphs into gladness and Aladdin's eyes skim the next page, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend the words staring back at him with no luck, "What does it say next?" Like many underprivileged denizens of Magi, Aladdin is unable to read fluently. Morgiana and the master of their house occasionally teach him through reading books alongside him. Also, his writing has improved. At least now Morgiana can make out a few words within Aladdin's drabbled cacophony.

"The Red Lions." Morgiana breathes, batting away the onslaught of emotions that bubble to the surface. Intricate illustrations of her ancestors stare lifelessly into her matching red eyes. Lifeless, silent, never again to intake breath. Did they, like her people, scream as death claimed them within his cold embrace? Was their blood smeared against the ground in imitation of their wild scarlet curls? Crippled by the deadliest poison within their veins as they suffered through its sluggish crawl, begging for death's merciful hand. Unjustly beheaded for crimes he'd never commit!

"Morgiana?" She gasps, caught unawares by the boy beside her who takes her hands away from the crumpled book, "How about we take a break?" Morgiana has found a mighty adversary in Aladdin's infectious smile. His goofy grin is enough to reset her emotional gauge, "I need to gather Yunan's tea leaves for the morning. How about you come with me this time?"

She nods absently, "Okay." Aladdin jumps to his feet, towering over her. Morgiana recalls over a year ago, when their height differences were reversed. It's baffling how things can change in the blink of an eye. Aladdin's warmth escapes her fingers while he grabs their cloaks hanging limply over the rusty handle of Morgiana's tiny closet. Deep blue, frazzled fabric sweeps across her frame and Aladdin clasps her cloak in place. Morgiana draws her hood up, preventing any loose strings of hair from poking out as Aladdin shrugs his worn coat on.

Morgiana didn't realized how out of the loop her mind was till Aladdin hugs her, lifting her off the floor. Bad idea. Their bedroom wall wails in terror, harmonizing with her blue haired friend who was body slammed into it. She'd gained control of her muscles at the last second, minimizing the damage done to Aladdin as much as she could, "Sorry!"

"My bad." He responds while plastered to the wall, "Forgot about that." Morgiana doesn't respond very well when touched without notice. Her instincts involuntarily kick into action and the results…aren't too pretty.

She pulls Aladdin off the wall, his head spins in circles, "Are you hurt?" She examines him from top to bottom.

"Could be worse. Nothing's damaged this time." Morgiana sincerely appreciates how Aladdin's stuck by her for this long. He doesn't have much of a choice in the matter, but still. Suffering a broken nose, three broken ribs, a broken leg and a dislocated shoulder at her unintentional hand should make anyone flee for their lives. Aladdin's different, though. A true friend. Morgiana would go so far as to label him a brother.

Aladdin, shaky on his feet, loops their arms together. The gesture is too familiar. A bitter smile washes over her features and Morgiana slips her arm down, taking Aladdin's hand instead, "Thanks…for the hug and for looking out for me."

"No need to thank me Mor, it's my job!" His smile is jubilant, blinding. Aladdin leads and they exit their room. Once two pairs of bare feet touch the bottom of the wooden staircase, Aladdin releases his grip. Their living quarters left much to be desired. A long couch furnished for three, a small wooden table at the center of the room and a single lightbulb dangling from above. The collection of books at the far end of the room breathed some form of life into the place, as well as the kitchen area which is easily accessible since the two rooms were conjoined. Beyond the kitchen was a closed door adorned with a topaz, diamond shaped glass piece carved into it. This led to the outside. Its twin gateway stood at the opposite pole of the room near the small library. This one was off limits to both Aladdin and herself. Feeding your curiosity as to what's behind that door leads to less than desirable results. Morgiana and Aladdin have learned that the hard way.

Aladdin readied his brown satchel and exits their house. Morgiana trails after him. An onslaught of cold winds spontaneously unveil the red head. She quickly draws her hood back in place, tugging on the material much closer than before. Not a strand out of place, else she'd be signing her death warrant. Once a symbol of pride is now her burden to carry. She loathes the colour red. The colour of her hair. The colour of blood. What remains…remained of the Fanalis clan were hunted down, enslaved, killed. She's heard the blood chilling folklore being tossed about in the wind. The Red Lions are an endangered species. Her people, herself, all reduced to animals awaiting the slaughter. Murdered for sport. Some Fanalis men, in desperate attempts to save their families from such a horrendous fate, killed their own wives and children before succumbing to their captors. Anyone with red hair becomes a target, a bane to the rest of mankind. Thoughts of bleaching, dyeing and shaving her hair off completely have crossed her mind. Yet…she couldn't do it. Morgiana simply couldn't.

A sweet whistling tune tickles her ears, one of Aladdin's little habits. His sapphire eyes warmly regard her and he picks up the pace, "Race you!"

A challenge. No, a losing battle. Morgiana witnesses her friend's sluggish sprint through the trees, a useless attempt at gaining the upper hand. She dislikes bursting his bubble but, "The victor's already been decided. You already know that there's no chance of you winning."

"Nothing beats a try Morgiana." Aladdin screams breathlessly, getting further ahead.

She could just let him win. Take a nice, cool walk through the forest. Yes, that sounds delightful. However…

The soil beneath her right foot splits at the deep impact of her sole digging into the ground. A large crater was left in her wake. Morgiana glides through the forest after her friend. Her steps were fluid and fast. She's an unseen blur amid the natural splendor of the woodlands. Footfalls so silent, Aladdin didn't realize she'd overtaken his advance until he collapsed at her feet in the clearing at the edge of the forest.

Morgiana's lips form a small smile. She offers him a supporting hand while Aladdin intakes precious air, "You…are so fast."

She shrugs, pulling him up to his feet, "I'm not that fast." Wide blue eyes stare at her as if she's insane.

"You can take on anyone from Lightning in a race without breaking a sweat girl." Aladdin's arm leans on her slender shoulder for a few seconds.

Morgiana's eyes dart about until she spots the goal, "Thyme." Aladdin's head whips in the direction she points to.

"Good eye, Mor." He pulls out a torn piece of parchment from a pocket inside his satchel, "Yunan left me an extra list of ingredients to find for him too. Umm…" Aladdin squints in vain, "Could you…?"

He hands her the list, Morgiana gazes over the items, "One Morning Glory Petal, Seven Broad Sage Leaves, Two White Magnolia Flowers and a Dewberry."

Aladdin checks them off his fingers, committing the list to memory, "Morning glory, sage, magnolias, dewberry, got it. How about I take care of the list and you get the thyme."

She nods and they part ways. Aladdin weaves through the thick underbrush a few feet away while Morgiana quickly locates the herbs for her caretaker's tea. Every morning, Aladdin is charged with collecting these green herbs, as Yunan's apprentice. Morgiana accompanies the blue haired boy once in a while. Never does her companion complain. He sees fulfilling such menial tasks to be the greatest honor. Yunan does reward him, by teaching the young alchemist in training a few tricks of the trade. Alchemy isn't a commended practice in these times. Few souls willingly delve into the intricacies surrounding such an exhilarating yet dangerous field. However, you do find the local apothecary here and there. Aladdin longs to learn the ways of his middle aged master and Yunan is elated to have such an astounding successor.

With an adequate measure of the herbs, Morgiana makes her way back to the center of the clearing. Aladdin hasn't returned, he did need to collect four different items. He should have given her something else to find. Morgiana would just wait. She intakes a long breath, drawing a myriad of scents through her nostrils. Amid the sharp scents of the forest, Morgiana found Aladdin a mere minute away from her location. Not a foreigner to be found, unless you count that small family of rodents trotting across the close knitted branches above her head. She can relax. For now.

Morgiana strips off her cloak, wrapping the thyme within its woolly folds and discarding the soft bundle on the forest floor. She strode to the very edge of the precipice overlooking a wild wasteland devoid of life. Cracked, brittle earth stretches on for miles with a quaint civilization looming in the distance. Her palace. Her home. The tainted remnants of the Red Lion Royal Palace after its unceremonious occupation by _that_ despicable man.

It's been three years. Morgiana has no right to stake claims to the birthright she's long abandoned. Recovering the lands of the Fanalis tribe would be a remarkable feat, yet it's impossible. A death wish even. She'd be foolish to attempt a counteraction against the tyrant king, a man who has so callously dealt long, slow deaths to the imbeciles who dare defy him. Never are his executions the same, he delights in being creative. Over the years, the tyrant king has had multiple challengers with the aim to dethrone him, and for good reason. He doesn't hold his malignant title for nothing. Every single one of them has failed. Brutally mangled, murdered as examples. Simply for the sake of instilling fear into the lives of every breathing creature. Sad to say, Morgiana isn't immune to his despair. Dread plagues her by the day, an inescapable, never ending nightmare.

She has nothing. No lands, no people, no hope.

She is nothing.

"Mor!"

Morgiana spins around at the sound of her name. Her once taut features soften. Oh yes, how could she forget? In spite of her status as the forgotten princess, long dead to the world, Morgiana does have one ally she can count on.

Aladdin appears right before her face, sweat beaded on his smooth brow, "Got all the stuff. Did you wait long?"

"No." She shook her head, ruby eyes still enraptured in an absent daze.

Aladdin frowns, reading her like a book, "You were looking at it again." His own sapphire gaze drifts to Morgiana's former home, standing miles upon miles away.

A sigh escapes her, Morgiana strides away from the cliffs impending end, "The past is the past. Let's go."

"Wait!" Aladdin moves swiftly, taking Morgiana's hand and she stiffens. The muscles in her arm groan with the desire to shake him off but she stills that want as quickly as it came, "Morgiana…" Sorrow mingles within his tenacious voice, a tone she despised. Aladdin's grip suddenly weakens with his loss of words.

"We can't keep Yunan waiting Aladdin." Morgiana dismisses him, taking up the thyme in her hands and shrugging on her newly scented cloak.

The travail back to their home was silent, heavily so. Morgiana didn't wish to speak and Aladdin seemed lost in his own head by the distant look on his face. She can, however, look forward to a conversation with him once he's gathered up his scattered thoughts. Their front door was left ajar, she's certain…

They have company. Morgiana tugs on Aladdin's collar as the younger boy walked passed her on his way inside, "Sindria Soldiers. Two of them." Sensing her alarm, Aladdin takes her hand, dragging them to the back of their home. Quickly, she climbs up the dangling, decrepit rope ladder, hanging loosely from a small landing above their heads. Aladdin follows and they arrive on the second floor. A small trapdoor, perfectly sealed into the wooden structure of the house remains invisible to those who are unaware of its existence. A small grin attaches itself on Aladdin's face when he reveals a dark ball of matter out of thin air. That miniscule act of magic never ceases to surprise Morgiana. She once scoffed at the mythology that is magic. Now that she's seen the capabilities of young Aladdin and Master Yunan first hand, the whimsical fairy tales she'd grown up with are no longer fiction. Although, Morgiana remains concealed in the dark when it comes to the explanation behind a unique branch of sorcery such as this.

Aladdin squeezes the dark grey ball with both hands, easily molding it into an imperfect door handle. He clamps it to the entrance in an area where a magnet hides between the thin layers of wood. He pulls on the makeshift handle and opens up the hatch. Morgiana jumps inside first, her feet quietly scraping the floorboards. She awaits Aladdin's descent, catching the heavier boy with no difficulty. Aladdin closes the door with the metallic handle, a small _click_ resounds and the magnet within the wooden door seals them in. Morgiana, holding Aladdin up by his torso, sets her friend down gently. He reshapes the handle into a sphere, tosses it up lightly and the mass dematerializes into oblivion. Just how does he do it?

The two travel stealthily out of the vacant store room they entered through and found themselves overhearing a conversation among the men occupying their living quarters.

"…I can assure you gentlemen, I have already paid my dues." That gentle, soothing voice could only belong to Mogiana's benefactor and Aladdin's master, Yunan. The tall, blonde man held a calm smile as he showed the two gangly men opposing him a recently prepared document, "If you would like, I can avail myself to have a word with your supervising officer."

"There is no need for that." The taller of the two says, banishing Yunan's suggestion while his partner's glaring eyes scan the interior of their home, "By the way, where is the boy?"

Yunan smoothly answers, "He's out collecting some herbs for me. He should be back very soon." In less than a second, blue eyes dart towards Morgiana and Aladdin's hiding place on the upper floor of the house.

"Alright then." The taller man nods, gesturing to his observant partner. Both men take their leave, roughly slamming the door shut on their way out.

Yunan pauses for a couple of seconds before calling them down, "Aladdin, Morgiana." Both teens descend the flight of stairs.

"Good morning, Master." Aladdin bows deeply before his teacher.

Morgiana greets Yunan with a small smile, "Good morning."

The blonde smiles cheerfully at Morgiana then turns to Aladdin, "Raise you head," The blue haired boy follows the command, "In future, when entering through the trapdoor unannounced, it'd suggest using a Discreet Draught before coming in. I played your unceremonious arrival off as an issue with unwanted scavengers scurrying about on the rooftop. Please be careful next time." Morgiana fixes Yunan with an inquisitive stare, "Yes, you are light on your feet Morgiana but that skill isn't something Aladdin naturally possesses. Besides, your footsteps may be quiet but that silence doesn't extend to the shifts of your clothing, nor your breathing. We're dealing with trained soldiers, my dear. That is your lesson for today."

Before Morgiana can respond, "Master!" Aladdin has his notebook at the ready, "What ingredients do I need to brew the Discreet Draught?"

Yunan tosses the parchment he's holding into the air and it vanishes in a wink, "We'll have a lesson once you've made my morning tea."

"Right." Aladdin nods, racing to the kitchen with all the items they gathered from earlier, "I also found those other ingredients that were on your list. Mind me asking, what are they for?"

The blonde man strides towards the selection of books in the corner, unearthing a dusty volume, "They're for the Discreet Draught."

Aladdin's eyes glimmer, "But…how did you know!"

"All in due time, Aladdin." Yunan gives a troublesome wink, returning his concentration to the bookshelf.

Aladdin gets to work on making Yunan's tea. Morgiana takes a seat on the small sofa when Yunan comes over with a filth-free book. He hands it to her, "This is for you, Morgiana. I've been saving it for a special day. There is something on yours and Aladdin's mind that you both would like answered." Aladdin perks up at his name. She could think of no question she wants answered. Yunan must be referring to a query yet to come. Future sight is one of Yunan's many skills, one Aladdin is eager to learn. However, as Yunan keeps repeating, all in due time.

Morgiana casts her sights on the lightweight text in her hands, "The Red Lions: A History." A beautiful illustration of reds, pinks and white adorn the hard covered volume. Inscribed along the bottom of the book, penned in an elegant script were the words ' _Nomad of the North_.' Morgiana didn't know what to make of this. She could only respond with a sincere, "Thank you."

"Today is a special day for some." Three years since the reign of King Sinbad began. It's surprising how his henchmen can come collect taxes on such a momentous occasion of celebration and merriment for his city. Sindria, dubbed by the tyrant king himself. The Fanalis Domain is no more.

Morgiana scoffs under her breath, "And a pain for others."

"Tea?" She looks up, failing to notice how long Aladdin's been near her. She takes the boiling mug from his large hands. Her senses are distracted, that should not be.

"Thanks." She states. Yunan had already been served, half his concoction remained in the cup. An exuberant smile splits onto the blonde man's features, he sighs, refreshed. Morgiana takes a sip of her own tea. A sensation of comfort spreads through her taste buds, to the rest of her body. Comfort isn't a luxury she holds dear and clasps onto, not anymore. When you're wrapped within the veil of comfort, your wits lose efficiency, your blade becomes dull. Morgiana wouldn't allow it. Yet…she can appreciate its fleeting kiss every once in a while.

Aladdin plops down on the sofa next to her, his tea miraculously doesn't spill off the sides of his mug. Blue eyes squint to read her new belonging's title, "T…th…the…r…red…the red lions! A…h…hi…umm…?"

"A history. You got the first part right, that's good." Aladdin beams at Morgiana's praise.

"Can we read it later? Or…is that just for you?" He backs away and she shakes her head.

Morgiana declares, "Its better when we read books together."

"Morgiana, you're so awesome." Where did that come from? "I'd hug you but…"

She picks up on his hesitancy, drawing him into a hug of her own. Morgiana lets him go, Aladdin smiles as if the short gesture meant all the world to him.

Yunan had left the two for the kitchen once his tea time was over. The ingredients Aladdin recovered in the forest were spread out on the kitchen countertop and Yunan summoned his student into his class. Morgiana left the student and the master to their lesson, retreating to her shared bedroom. What do you do when you're friend and your caretaker are busy, leaving behind an empty restroom? She decided on taking a shower.

Morgiana towel dries her damp, shoulder length red hair before a large mirror. Her motions slowed while she studies her features. Scarlet hair that once fell to her waist, now caresses her shoulders. She'd be lying if she said she misses her long curls. That one man who flayed her ends with his sword really did her a favor. She's kept it short ever since. Morgiana's always been small in stature. Her baggy shirt and pants, a gift from Yunan, highlight her slender frame. At seventeen years old, she can say that the years have been kind. Aladdin tells Morgiana all the time that she's beautiful. She fails to see it though. Morgiana can crush a grown man's arm into dust in a single breath, how is that even close to appealing? Myron was right when…

Never mind.

Morgiana crashes onto her bed, finding Yunan's book amongst her cluttered sheets. The pages are a little worn with age, its dry scent filling her nose when she flips open the front cover.

"Mor! Check this out!" The bedroom door suddenly opens with a ringing _bang._ Aladdin soars onto Morgiana's bed without warning. She rolls to the right before the blue haired boy collapses on top of her.

Adrenalin pumping, her heart racing, Morgiana's senses were on fire. It takes her a moment to steel herself. Aladdin's attached both his hands to his mouth, he didn't dare make a sound, "What is it?" Morgiana inquires curiously. She wonders what could be at the center of Aladdin's commotion, could it be a certain magical lesson?

"Look, look!" He summons a small vial containing a lilac liquid, "It's the Discreet Draught!" Called it, "I made it myself."

"That's fantastic." Her tone lacks enthusiasm but Aladdin appreciates her response anyway.

He pops open the stopper and downs the purple drink in one gulp. His mouth begins moving but Morgiana could no longer hear him.

"What are you saying?" She asks. It seems like the potion works. Aladdin stomps on the ground, his face contorting in the form of a scream. Totally soundless. He ceases, grinning from ear to ear, "Okay. The question now is, how do you reverse it?"

Aladdin's mouth moves until, "…and a dewberry. I just have to list all the ingredients in the potion, simple. So you really can't hear me?" Morgiana gives Aladdin a raised eyebrow, "But I listed all the…oh no! What if I'm stuck like this, never to make another sound?" A comment surfaces at the tip of her tongue but Morgiana restrains herself, "Morgiana! Mor!"

"I can hear you, Aladdin." She concluded pretending, for her eardrum's sakes.

Aladdin looks relieved, "Oh. Why didn't you say so?" She shrugs and Aladdin deadpans, "What a crude sense of humor you have." He ghosts the empty vial away, "I'll have to make some more later. Anyway, what were you doing?"

"Just reading a bit." He pouts as if saying _'without me?'_ "Care to join?"

"I should take a bath first." Aladdin crawls off her bed, proceeding to the washroom.

Not long after, Morgiana and Aladdin were curled up within the sheets of her bed with Morgiana's new book separating them. She didn't read much of it, only the first paragraph in fact. They basically flipped through the book, ogling at pictures. The imagery was stunning, the author of such illustrations was highly praised by the pair. Aladdin had many questions, some of which Morgiana couldn't answer. They made it to the middle of the book and a large picture spanning two pages captivates them.

"Wow, who's that?" Aladdin's eyes twinkle with wonder at the immaculate sight.

The image is familiar but Morgiana couldn't place it. She reads the caption below and gasps, "This is the first queen of the red lions." Her fingers gingerly brush the illustration, her throat dry, "Queen Sheba."

"Your ancestor?" Aladdin asks and Morgiana nods.

Regal, refined, this stunning pink haired majesty couldn't be described by mere human words. "Queen Sheba is a divine being to the Fanalis race. Our Mother. The Red Lioness." How could Morgiana forget? She's a disgrace to her lineage. Are her ancestors frowning down on her even now? She wouldn't be surprised. She's long abandoned her family's legacy. She should be struck down by mentioning the very core of the Fanalis clan when she's left it all for dead.

"The Red Lioness." Aladdin repeats.

Morgiana smiles at the faintest memory of her father. He'd told her a story long ago, now hazy in the recesses of her mind, about the bravery and zeal Queen Sheba emanated as she struggled throughout her lifetime. Never the less, she was a mighty conqueror, able to lead her people with unrivalled power and entrancing influence.

"It's always been on my mind," Morgiana's attention tunes in to Aladdin's musings. His blue eyes seem brighter. The dimming light from the outside of these walls may be the cause. Morgiana reaches for a white switch plastered into the wall at the headrest of her small bed. A small lightbulb illuminates the entire room. It doesn't feel as if much time has passed but it's already nearing dusk. Aladdin continues when Morgiana settles down on the bed, "Whenever we're out near the cliff, you always stare at it. You try to brush it off but I can tell that it bothers you deep down."

"Aladdin-" "Mor," He cuts her off, "You deny it on the outside but on the inside, you want it back."

"Leave that alone, Aladdin." She felt the need to roll around, giving Aladdin her back but she didn't want to be rude, "I don't want it."

"You may not want it for yourself, but you do want your home back. For your people, at least. To reclaim what rightfully belongs to all of you. So what if you're the last Fanalis. Queen Sheba was the first one right? You can always rebuild, there's a possibility that-"

"It's impossible and you know it!" It wasn't her intent to shout, nor did she want to shed tears. Morgiana swipes the liquid anguish off her heated face, "I'm sorry, Aladdin." She apologizes for the unhindered outburst.

He understands, frowning, "That's okay."

They lay next to each other, a long silence stretches on between them. Until, "There's no way…I can get it back." Morgiana remarks, crushing a portion of her bedding within her balled fists. She sobs pathetically. This is who she is, fragile and scared. There's no way…there's just no way.

"Morgiana," Aladdin's hand caresses her head, his blue eyes tenderly holding Morgiana's red ones, "In this life, I've learned that things change. Whether we want them to or not. It's through those changes that we grow and come to an even greater understanding of what exactly life is all about. Sure, your circumstance may be bleak now but with the actions you put into motion from here on out, things can and will change. The tyrant king won't reign forever. Maybe…this is the trial you must overcome to become the leader of your clan. You always told me that you never wanted to be on the throne. You got your wish and now look at you. You're miserable. But it doesn't have to be this way. Nothing beats a try. I know who you are after spending the past three years of my life growing up beside you. You're strong and bold with a heart of gold." Aladdin grins to himself, "See what I did there? I should be a poet! Anyway, I digress. The fact of the matter is, you can do it. You don't see it right now, but you're blessed beyond anything that you can imagine and in case you're afraid of stumbling, I'll be there to pick you right back up. It'll be hard...but, if given the chance to get it all back, would you once again take on your role as Princess, become the Red Lioness?"

To say she was stunned would be an understatement. Morgiana didn't know what to say as Aladdin lay his opinion bare before her enlightened eyes. His eyes, however, flutter with the urge to remain closed, "You…can be…queen." Her companion swiftly falls asleep, how unusual. Possibly an after effect of the potion he took earlier.

"You're asleep but…thank you for your kind words, Aladdin." Morgiana stares intently at his tired visage, brushing a thumb along his brow to remove stray strands of hair before his eyes. Aladdin's lips part a little and she smiles, "I say it's impossible because it's not just a straight path back home. Anyone who opposes the tyrant king is as good as dead. I don't want to put you through that since you would obviously come along with me. I'd never forgive myself if something bad happens to you because of me. I'm satisfied being here with you and Yunan. It's unfortunate, what's happened to my people, but there's no changing our fate."

 _Eight Kingdoms Once United, Their Bonds Now Ancient History_

 _The Seer, The Dragon, The Essence, Three Entities of Mystery_

 _A Damsel Draped In Scarlet On A Quest To Make Things Right_

 _Traversing Through The Withered Land, Sojourning Day And Night_

 _A Man Of Charm And Valor, Of Wits And Lovingkindness_

 _Until The Darkness Stained His Heart And Drove Him Into Madness_

 _The Tyrant And The Maiden; Their Fate, An Encounter_

 _Opposing One Other, Unwavering, In A Desperate Fight For Power_

…

"What do you think?"

He carefully closes the book he's been reading, responding in an uncaring tenor, "How profound."

"I knew you would say that. Quite the poet, am I not?" The Sage jokes.

"The Tyrant, The Maiden." He muses, ignoring his acquaintance, "I wonder." Setting his volume back in place among the brethren upon its corresponding bookshelf, he returns to the orb at his desk.

 _"The Isolated Will Ascend Alongside The Sunrise."_ The Sage declares with that surreal tone of voice which signifies a prophecy.

He already knows the response but, "Interpretation, please."

"All in due time, my friend. Divination is not rushed, neither is the answer ever in plain sight. Most premonitions do have double meanings. For one, your champion sets off before the second moon. I shall expound no more."

"Not that you did so in the first place." The man says morbidly, sighing, "I shall be taking my leave. I am certain you also have duties to attend to, Sage."

The Sage laughs, "That I do, friend. Farewell. For now."

The connection breaks and his orb becomes lifeless once more. He sighs. Before the second moon, there is much work to be done. He sighs.

* * *

 **Well, it took me almost an entire year (363 days!) but at least I updated it. Finally. Procrastination is bad, very bad. Don't let it enter your life.**

 **Thank you so much if you made it to chapter 2 after reading through chapter 1. Also, to the few who followed, faved and reviewed this story, I thank you so much from the depths of my heart. Hopefully my next update won't be in one years time :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Pounding. Her head throbs erratically with no desire to stop. Morgiana's joints ache from lack of use, how long has she been out? Vision clouded, scarlet eyes sluggishly open. A pale blue sky welcomes her sights. Why is she outside? She stirs, sitting up from her bed of green foliage. Why in the world did she sleep out here!? Where are Myron, Lo'Lo'? Surely father must have a search party rummaging these woodlands for her.

Morgiana stretches, yawning loudly while she slowly stands on her feet. Rough patches of grass tickle her bare feet. Had she run away from the palace with the intent to desert? No, that's not right. Morgiana takes note of her tattered clothing, caked with muddy refuse. Droplets of dirt cling to her skin and hair. Hair that's been chopped haphazardly. When did-?

The confused princess suddenly cradles her right hand, a painful hiss rises out of her. Her hand prickles as if a roaring flame burns under her pallid skin. In seconds, that blistering pain is reversed by the chilly sensation of frost seizing her veins. She could barely feel her frostbitten fingers that steadily regain thermal equilibrium with the rest of her body. Her breathing, once labored, returns to its traditional flow and she shakes out her right hand. That's not normal.

Scanning her surroundings, Morgiana couldn't place where exactly she was. The only indication of civilization was a couple of miles away where billows of smoke form ghastly pillars across the sky. The scents around her seem familiar, Morgiana isn't far from home. Leaves crumple from the bush mere feet away from her and she stills. A flash of blue leaps out of the greenery, a ravenous war cry howls through the air. Stunned in place, Morgiana could do nothing to escape the beast which pins her to the ground. She rigorously rolls to the left, pinning the wild animal on the forest floor with might that far surpassed her predator, who was now the prey. A low snarl threatens to leave her throat, startling the princess back to reality.

Her captive shivers beneath Morgiana's weight, dominated by the young girl who remains astonished by the overwhelming sensations that just vacated her body. Shaking off the thought, Morgiana's attention returns to her prisoner. To her surprise, it was just a boy. He was of short stature, skinny, "Please don't eat me!" Wide blue eyes slowly open, a cool sapphire hue that matches his scruffy hair, sporting long tresses to the back, intertwined in an expertly crafted braid.

"Why would I eat you?" She looks down on him with curiosity.

The boy calmed as he stares into Morgiana's questioning gaze, "What a relief. I thought you were savage."

Morgiana scowls at him, "Yet why did you attack me?"

"Because I assumed you'd be a cute, defenseless animal, not a cute girl." The boy remarks smoothly, winking at her.

She deadpans, "That wasn't very wise."

"I'm working on that. Master says I have a long way to go in terms of wisdom." He says, "So, miss. As much as I enjoy being in this position with a pretty lady, would you mind getting off me?"

Morgiana flies ten feet away from him once his words settle in her mind, "Wait, aren't you like ten?" She can't be mistaken, he must be younger than Morgiana.

"Twelve!" He remarks gleefully, flashing his index finger with his right hand while showcasing his index and middle fingers with his left. His blue eyes roam down Morgiana's physique, "While you, miss, are fourteen." She refuses to accept how he correctly guessed her age, staying silent, "If you don't mind me asking, are you an escapee?"

Morgiana's gaze reveals her confusion, "What are you talking about?"

The boy strides towards her, Morgiana's guard completely up. He draws a stray red hair off her forehead, "You're a Fanalis, that's for sure. It's amazing how you avoided capture."

"What…?" Morgiana gapes. What's he saying?

The boy's head lolls to the right, "You don't know? Or maybe you hit your head and can't remember." He flicks his wrist and a small bottle materializes in his hand.

Morgiana instinctively sinks back. What was that!?

"Drink this, it should improve your memory." He uncaps the bottle.

Morgiana avoids him at all costs, "The bottle…it just appeared in your hand!"

"Yeah, so." He speaks of it so nonchalantly, "Never heard of magic?"

"Magic?" Like from those legends and bedtime stories? The myths that enchant children's minds into believing that works of sorcery are real. Don't tell her…

"That's right." The boy throws the vial into the air and it vanishes like a passing breeze. He summons the container once more, "You've never seen magic before?"

Morgiana shakes her head weakly, "That's impossible."

The boy shakes his head, "I beg to differ. I used it just then, didn't I? If magic doesn't exist, how do you explain my vanishing act?" He keeps tossing the bottle up, dematerializing it then forming it between his fingers once again. Morgiana was at a loss for words, "I thought so." He comes closer and Morgiana backs away, colliding with a sturdy tree, "Now drink this, it'll help you remember." Or kill her. It's probably a poison!

"Get away from me!" She shouts and he freezes in alarm.

The boy puts a finger to his lips, "Hey, be quiet! Do you want us to get caught? We shouldn't even be out here in the first place. It's crawling with Sindria Soldiers."

"Sindria…Soldiers?" She questions and the boy gives her a look as if she was dumb.

"You really don't know anything?" He says, frowning, "Not even a little?" Morgiana shakes her head. The boy looks thoughtful, "I wonder if I should be the one to tell you. I'm a complete stranger after all…oh. So that's why you won't drink the Evoking Elixir." He tosses it back into oblivion.

Through her disarrayed thoughts, the shredding of dry leaves under heavy feet scratches Morgiana's ear. She perks up, the boy sensing her start. He too listens in on the sound nearing their position, "Oh no! We need to get out of here! Come on!" The boy makes a break through the forest. Morgiana doesn't wish to follow but she'd rather scramble through the trees than have an encounter with whoever, or whatever, is in these woods.

Morgiana catches up with the boy in no time. He grins as they run, "It's true what they say. Fanalis…are pretty fast. Pretty and fast." He winks.

"Bye." Morgiana veers right and the boy follows.

"Hey, wait. I think we…lost them." He's already out of breath? Humans from other clans are so fragile. They both pause below a wilting tree which forms a barricade from oncoming sunlight, "So what's your name, if you don't mind my asking?"

"That's not important." Why should she tell a stranger her name? Besides, if he hasn't recognized her as the heir to the Fanalis throne, all the better.

He nods, "I understand. Well, I'm Aladdin. Nice to meet you, miss!" He grins widely.

Morgiana didn't know whether she could trust him. That could be a fake alias. However, she couldn't fight off the nagging suspicion that what he was telling her earlier was an inkling of the truth, "A while ago, you were saying something about me being an escapee." Her run away theory wasn't afar off then.

Suddenly, the boy's visage transforms to regret, "I said so because it's a miracle, randomly running into a Fanalis. I thought they'd all been caught."

 _Caught_?

A foreboding sense of dread washes over Morgiana, "Caught? Why would my people…caught. You said caught, right?"

The boy, Aladdin, nods solemnly, "Can you answer this? Who's the current monarch of the red lion royal palace? Not that you can call it that anymore."

"The current monarch…," Father… "Is Muu Alexius." Pounding. Morgiana's head reels, her vision spinning in a tidal wave of nausea. The sour taste of an upcoming retch bubbles up in her throat.

"Was. It was Muu Alexius," Aladdin announced, his young features remorseful, "Muu Alexius is dead."

She heaves but nothing springs out of her empty stomach. Morgiana sinks into a coughing fit, her knees crash into the ground. No. It's not true. He's lying.

"I'm sorry," The boy looks away, "Just over a week ago - eight days to be exact - the Fanalis domain came to an end." Morgiana stares at Aladdin with unbelieving eyes. That can't be true. She couldn't have been unconscious for an entire week, even more so according to the boy's claims. Father is alive… "Countless Fanalis have been detained, some killed while others are being sold into slavery even as we speak." No. That's…it's not true! Aladdin sullenly stares into her swollen eyes, a downpour of warm tears imminent, "Your kingdom has fallen, princess Morgiana."

* * *

She collapsed in shock after that, if memory serves her right.

Morgiana would rather not dwell on her spectral refuse of the past, not so early in the morning either.

She stifles a yawn, stretching out her limbs and gazing at nothing in particular. She notices the vacancy of her bed where a certain boy would be cuddling beside her, at a safe distance. Aladdin tends to crawl into Morgiana's bed every once in a blue moon and the last time he did so gave him a hard lesson in personal space. Now, she was the only occupant of the silent room. Aladdin's scent lingers faintly within her sheets, he's been gone for a couple of hours now.

Morgiana rises, tugging her blanket off. Her feet hover above the wooden floorboards. There's so much flooding her mind, that mild reverie, her conversation with Aladdin yesterday. She sighs, getting off the bed and tidying up. Without a sound, Morgiana strolls down to their living quarters where a smiling Yunan sits comfortably on their aged couch, lapping gingerly at his freshly brewed tea. On sight of the red head, Yunan's lackadaisical smile extends, "Morgiana, good morning." He rises with graceful flare and meets Morgiana at the last step.

"Good morning." Morgiana states politely, bowing at the perfect angle. She could never execute a flawless curtsey, no matter how hard Myron tried drilling it into her.

Yunan's cheerful smile converts to a wry one. He's not too keen about how formally Morgiana greets him but how could she not? If it weren't for Yunan and by extension Aladdin, she would've been dead by now, "Did you sleep well?"

She stands up straight, meeting his soft gaze with an honest one, "I've had better nights." The phantasmal dream still lingers in her head.

He chuckles, affectionately stroking the top of her head. The gesture incites a warmth within Morgiana's heart, "Had a bad dream?"

"I wouldn't call it bad." She responds flatly. Yunan nods in understanding, striding into the kitchen. He sets his steamy mug onto the deep amethyst countertop. Gathering a second mug out of a cupboard, he pours the remnants of his morning herbal tea from his tea pot into it.

"Tea?" He offers, passing her the hot beverage.

Morgiana carefully reaches for the warm ceramic mug, "Thank you."

"You're welcome!" Yunan retrieves his own mug, gesturing for Morgiana to follow, "Care to join me?"

She nods, trailing after her blond guardian. Morgiana isn't much of a tea fan but she didn't wish to be rude. Seated next to Yunan who sips his brew in utter bliss, Morgiana eyes the earthy concoction, wisps of steamy white tickling her face.

"You don't like it?" Yunan's query breaks her absentmindedness.

"No, no! I mean, yes. It's just...hot, is all." She brings the mug to her lower lip, calmly blowing away the heat, "What exactly is this tea?" Morgiana knows that Aladdin is charged with preparing Yunan's morning tea. He ventures into the woodlands every morning to gather the list of necessary herbs, primarily thyme.

Yunan flashes his overachieving smile, the one that tells you he's masking something below the surface of his words, "It's thyme tea with a slight hint of peppermint today. That boy really is talented when it comes to brewery and alchemy. He'll surpass me very soon. He quite possibly has already done so." Yunan has such high hopes for his star pupil. No one's as eager to learn as Aladdin, that's for sure, "I sent him out to retrieve some very special items for today's lesson. He's been out for hours." That may be due to his difficulty with reading, especially if he's dealing with a long list of complicated ingredients with specified measurements. Maybe Morgiana should go check on him, "I have the utmost confidence that he can gather them all on his own." So much for her assistance.

Yunan abandons Morgiana at the couch and strides over to his library, skimming through his catalog of titles until he finds the book he's been searching for, "Here we go."

"Yunan?" Morgiana alerts him by the quick whip of his head. She's finished her tea and sets the warm mug on their small table, "Thank you for the book yesterday. I was reading through it and recalled some of the bedtime stories my attendants usually shared. I was brought back to a time in my life when…things were much simpler. Thank you so much." As morbid as Morgiana's mood transforms whenever her people are remembered, its those fonder memories of the past that can truly give her a tiny sprinkle of joy.

Yunan's smile grows, Morgiana's lip curls in the same fashion and he takes a seat next to her, "No trouble at all Morgiana. I honestly thought you wouldn't dare open that book, so I'm glad. I understand how much you dislike dwelling on the past."

"No one should, really. The present is now and will lead to the future, there's no point in raising up what's already dead and gone." She adjusts her body on the couch so her head's more comfortable.

"I beg to differ with that opinion." Yunan sets his large tome near Morgiana's vacant mug, "Think of it this way, Morgiana. Which is first, the past, present or future?"

She shrugs, answering, "The past, obviously."

Yunan nods along, pleased with her blunt answer, "Meaning that the past is what paved the way to the present and by extension, the future. We learn from past mistakes so we know how to handle future situations, right?" Morgiana tilts her head to the side in understanding, "History isn't meant to be forgotten and shelved away without purpose. It's because of your history that you are who you are today. It's the same for me, the same for Aladdin. This will be your lesson for today. Go get 'The Book of Magi' for me, please?"

Morgiana follows Yunan's order. It's not everyday her lesson from him is an extensive one. She usually receives one liners as oppose to Aladdin's rigorous studies and potion making. She isn't Yunan's pupil formally, but the wisdom this man carries is unlike any other. She takes her time finding the volume stowed away upstairs. It's partially worn covering is a testament to the numerous times she's scanned this telling of their world's humble beginnings. Yunan waits patiently for Morgiana's return. She hands him the book and settles into the mold she's made in the couch.

"You've read this book countless times, tell me what it's about." Yunan flips through its leaves, the unceremonious question catches Morgiana off guard.

She forms the quickest summary she could muster, "The book tells of Magi, how the world was thousands of years ago. From the Eight Territories, noble houses and political figures, it also speaks of magical powers that each Territory possessed."

"Possesses, you mean." Yunan returns to the book's beginning, gliding through its table of contents.

"Yunan, those powers told in the book don't exist. Sure, you and Aladdin are…different but I've never seen anyone control the elements." The alchemist arts are beyond Morgiana's comprehension and they've never been mentioned in any book Morgiana's read through. Surely her friend and her caregiver's gifts strengthen Yunan's argument that humans are capable of splitting the earth in two and can manipulate water currents and storms, but seeing is believing as they say.

"That's because, my dear princess, you've been sheltered from the wide world around you. Did any of your studies entail teachings on the other Territories? Their cultural traditions and social norms?" She shook her head.

"We never went in depth on other Territories. I've only known that they exist and have met a few nobles from various Kingdoms of the land." By Yunan's smile, Morgiana's explained it all herself. So, this knowledge is commonplace?

"You've been sheltered by your father from many things. He never wanted you to lift a finger, it's no surprise he would disallow your teachers from disclosing anything he assumed would be associated with violence." Morgiana chewed on her inner cheek for a second.

"But there's nothing violent about knowing the other Territories' ways of life." If that were the case, Morgiana should have been a shut in with no means of exit. Her personal guard was plenty violent too.

"There's been much bloodshed Morgiana, when it comes to The Gifted," Yunan's smile falters, "Our history as a whole, really. 'The Book of Magi' gives a…diluted account of all that's happened to this world. The good and the bad."

Morgiana regards her caretaker's visage, she frowns, "You speak as if you've witnessed it all."

Her words instill a sad smile on the man's features, "We must all tread the thorny pathway at some point but once the thorns have been overcome, you gain access to that vibrant rose awaiting you at the road's end. Some, like myself, have already captured that rose and must endure its inevitable wither. Others like you, my sweet princess, still walk the thorny way." His large hand strokes Morgiana's head.

"What of those who've never experienced the thorns, Yunan?" People who have it easy, with no worries and no regrets.

"You see the tyrant king in that light, don't you." Yunan's remark leaves a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, "His influence has taken over these lands at an astonishing rate."

"Life must be a bed of roses for him." She spat, glowering at nothing in particular.

"Appearances are deceiving, my princess. I can say that I felt that way about you before the Fanalis Dominion fell. Now that you've been tossed to the thorns, how do you suppose you get out?" Yunan stands just as the front door flies open.

"Master, sorry I'm late!" Aladdin pleads loudly, shutting the door behind him, "It took a while to steal the right amount of honey." An angry red blemish coated in salve is evident above Aladdin's left brow.

"It matters not. Morgiana's lesson ended as soon as you entered. Come now, let's get to work. We have much to cover today."

"Yes!" Notepad in hand, Aladdin soars into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards.

With one final ruffle of her hair, Yunan follows Aladdin to the kitchen along with his book from the library. Morgiana is left with nothing but 'The Book of Magi' and her empty mug. It's been a while since she's done some training.

* * *

Move. Breathe. Listen. Rest.

"My name is Morgiana. The final Fanalis. Swift, strong and fearless. I will not be shaken."

The midmorning winds whistle in her ears. Morgiana's face is a mask of concentration. She senses the flock of birds passing overhead, the sluggish sways of trees surrounding the clearing where she stands. Threads of red wave to the warm breeze before her face while the sun's rays illuminate the ethereal woodlands surrounding her. Tiny fists shoot through stagnant air, never missing a beat. Her invisible enemy is taunting her, dodging every hit with impeccable grace. Morgiana shifts her feet, unforgiving weapons she's toned and trained over the years. She moves faster, her foe does the same. Never must she allow herself the ease of dancing to the enemy's malevolent tune. Swift, strong, fearless, her personal refrain on repeat in her head. She must never stop, never lose again. The stubborn pride of her lineage won't allow it.

 _"I welcome any and all challengers. Come at me with everything you've got. Although, you shouldn't be surprised if you end up on the underside of my boot."_

A snarl rips through the forest and the aching splinter of wood crackles in the air. Woodland creatures take cover as the healthy tree Morgiana kicks into submission tumbles to the forest floor, its deep roots exposed, leaving a crater of moist dirt where it once stood. It takes minutes until Morgiana calms her mind. The fate of this forest depends on it. If she goes on with the tyrant king on her mind, she'll despise herself for heaping deforestation charges on Yunan's head. It's about time she takes a break.

Morgiana strides to the clearing's edge, the perch revealing a panoramic view of her former home, now dubbed Sindria. Within this city's atrocious walls, leisurely living his atrocious life alongside his atrocious citizens was the atrocious tyrant king himself. "Sinbad." No other name sounds as vile.

None can explain how he descended on the Fanalis Domain that day, how his uncouth men plundered and pillaged her Kingdom with ease, leaving the dead in their unexpected wake. Sinbad proclaimed his right as king, her father's head his prized trophy. It's a shame how the other Territories reacted. Under this new emperor with power unrivalled, they easily bowed down to Sinbad's will. Songs and folktales of Muu Alexius traversed the land, depicting his miserable life as the king hated by all and his untimely death which became the stepping stone to Magi's salvation. They all loved Sinbad, wishing to form relations with his new country, this valiant man with a smile so grand, so alluring. The fools. Once his true colours shone, the other Territories too felt the scorn the forgotten Fanalis princess lives through all the days of her life.

No more does Sinbad desire balance among the Eight Territories. He's recently made a public decree that every Tribe, Nation and Kingdom must assimilate with Sindria. He wants full eradication of the bars that separate each Territory from the other, making them all one. Of course, the other Territories opposed that notion. Their individualities would be stripped bare. Of course, the ruler of Sindria would deliver swift consequences for insubordination. Tax increases, restrictions on trade and commerce across the lands, Sinbad applied pressure on all the other nations, some of which have already begun transitioning into regions under his supreme governance.

Some from among the Territories have risen up in retaliation. However, any resistance attempting to raise its head is quelled in the blink of an eye and Sinbad knows very well how to make a public example. Disagree, and you die. Morgiana shakes her head, she should head back.

The trek to her home is short. She opens the door and a rich scent of sweetness touches her nose. Yunan and Aladdin are right where she left them in the kitchen, the blond man overlooking Aladdin's shoulder as the young boy stirs a mixture in a large pot over a low flame.

Morgiana heads upstairs to the shower. Not much time passes upon her return to their living quarters. She falls onto the couch, a dull pain pricking at the sole of her right foot. She brought with her Yunan's gift and flips open the book. Hours fly by as her brain feeds on tales of her homeland. Queen Sheba was amazing! One story in particular has piqued the princess' interest. It speaks of the pink haired queen, how she rallied the other kingdoms in one accord against an undesirable threat which nearly eradicated Magi. Sheba and a band of representatives, each hailing from a separate Territory and blessed with the gift of The Essence, used their powers to defeat the villain and saved this world. If only…

"Mor–Gi–A–Na!" She looks up from her book, too late in stopping Aladdin from sticking something between her lips. Sweet. Morgiana chews on the block, its flavor coating her whole mouth. Aladdin grins, "You like?" She nods, "You looked so focused, I was trying to get your attention from the kitchen but you wouldn't look up."

"Just reading." She says after swallowing the sweet treat.

Aladdin holds out some more chocolate, Morgiana breaks off a tiny piece, "Yunan and I made this."

"It's nice." To think Aladdin's never had chocolate. In his other hand is a mug. He passes it onto her.

"This is cocoa tea. Yunan said that in some places, people call it hot chocolate," Aladdin bites off a huge chunk of chocolate, "He even showed me how to make enchanted chocolates."

"Enchanted?" That doesn't sound promising.

Aladdin nods frantically, "We simply transformed all the regular potions I've learned into chocolate form! They're much easier to swallow. Plus, would you rather drink the potion after seeing it in its true form or eat a brick of chocolate that masks the taste and nature of the potion completely?" He has a point. Some of those potions are a sight for sore eyes, "Coupled with the chemical make up of the other ingredients used to make the chocolates, some of my potion's side effects are less potent! Isn't that great?"

"Thrilling." Morgiana sips the cocoa tea, "You didn't…enchant this too, did you?"

"Maybe." He stresses on the word and Morgiana deadpans, "I didn't, it's pure."

Aladdin takes a seat next to her, nibbling on the final piece of chocolate. Morgiana takes another sip, "It's good. I'm glad you've discovered this new way of making your concoctions."

He spent that entire afternoon telling her about the arsenal of new elixirs he's learned to make. Morgiana listened absently, her mind still on that story from the book. Up until dusk, wrapped within the confines of her bedsheets, Morgiana's thoughts wandered. The light snores coming from Aladdin's side of the room weren't much of a disturbance.

Thousands of Magi's citizens detest the rule of Sinbad. If they were to all come together…that would be a sight to see. The tyrant king defeated, his rule no more. What happens then? Someone else will just take his place, for better or for worse, who knows. Morgiana's heart races at the thought. Her crown's been usurped once, she'd never let it happen a second time. She doesn't have the strength to lead, but something's been nagging at that weak justification. Even if she doesn't want it, that doesn't give anyone else the right to take it from her.

 _"Nothing beats a try."_ Aladdin's snore hits a crescendo, retreating into silence a second later.

Maybe…

It's about time she unravels out of the thorns.

Morgiana's heartbeat drums through her entire body, she's really doing this. She grabs her cloak and packs a few items inside her travelling bag, the most important being her stash of coins she's collected over the past years. Copper and a few silver coins she's found on her travels across the forest. It's not much but she'll figure it out. Aladdin's snore returns, grabbing her attention. She doesn't want to wake him, but it's sad not leaving him with some form of goodbye. Regardless, she lightly maneuvers the dark room. His form is priceless, his face the picture of peace. Without a sound, she gently implants a chaste kiss on his forehead. He doesn't stir.

She smiles down on him sadly but she's made up her mind. He's the root cause of her actions in the first place, her genius little brother. The door was open, she's thankful for that. Not a sound to be made as she gingerly steps through the house, down the stairs and into the living quarters. Joyful memories exist within this humble home, ghosts of the past that will stay with Morgiana until her final breath.

Her sights, once dark, were suddenly enveloped in light. A gentle voice chastises the red head, "To think that you'd be the first to pull off this stunt. I'd expect this of Aladdin, not you Morgiana. I'm hurt."

Yunan sat in the middle of the couch, smiling at her with pride unlike his wounded tone. On the small table at his feet were an array of items as if he's been waiting on her all night.

"Does this mean me sneaking out last month was never found out?" Aladdin asks but swiftly covers his mouth with both hands. He leans on the railing at the top of the stairs, his satchel at his side.

"Honest to a fault, as always." Yunan says and Aladdin grins, rushing down the stairs. He grab's Morgiana's forearm, she prepared herself this time so he wasn't sent flying into a wall.

Yunan rises from his seat, slowly crossing the distance between his two beloved children, the elder he addresses first, "Morgiana, you-"

"You already knew." She cuts him off.

"Of course," Yunan states matter-of-factly, "From the moment I met you, I knew this day would come. That you'd somehow find the way to your intended path. Besides, all Fanalis are cut from the same cloth. If not now, you'd seek to reclaim your homeland eventually." He turns to the table, taking up a fold of red fabric, revealing a new cloak. Morgiana marvels at the black and gold trimmings intricately designed along the scarlet attire. Along with the cloak was a black and gold tunic that falls an inch above her knees coupled with a pair of sturdy black leggings.

"Yunan…this is too much." He would hear none of Morgiana's complaints. She could only watch as he takes up another item and hands it to her.

This time, a map of Magi is given, two red markings catch her attention, "Magi is vast, Morgiana. If you plan on eliminating King Sinbad, you'll need allies. Some of those you may meet on your journey may be plotting your very demise. It is best to stay hidden, as you know. Reveal yourself only to the ones you can trust with your life. You will know them when you meet them. Also, you see two spots on the map I've marked off. If you ever need help along the way or find yourself near these areas on your journey, you should pay a visit to these two friends of mine." One mark resides all the way to the north of the Wind Tribe, the other on the far eastern outskirts of Strength Nation, "Also," Yunan hands her 'The Book of Magi', "Hold onto this, you never know, it may come in handy."

Yunan takes one more item off the table, the sight of it makes Morgiana step back as if burned by its glimmer, "I believe this rightfully belongs to you."

She shook her head, lip trembling slightly, "No, that's not mine."

"It is your birthright, Princess Morgiana." Yunan holds out father's sword, neatly tucked away in a black scabbard. The loin's head gleams vibrantly, untouched by the aging effects of time, "Take it."

"It's father's sword." She says, evoking the image of his own weapon turned against him.

Yunan steps closer, "Now rightfully yours, Morgiana. There's no other who can use this but you."

"I can't even wield a sword, much less this one." The weapon was forged with the future king of the Fanalis Kingdom in mind, not its useless princess.

"You never know, it may come in handy." He recites the same words from earlier. Yunan's future sight is never wrong. Begrudgingly, her clumsy fingers wrap around the large sword, its weight much more than she bargained for.

Yunan looks from Morgiana to his pupil, "We don't usually do this in the presence of others but, Aladdin, step forward." Aladdin looks nervous, his mouth drawing a wry line as he takes two steps towards his master. The blond man's face was now emotionless, his hands opened out before him, "Today marks the start, my dearest child. The Steadfast, or The Wayward, where will you fall?" Aladdin's fears subsided by a fraction, he reaches out to Yunan's hands and a bright light floods the room. Once the luminous light fades, a dark grey hat identical to Yunan's green one appears within Yunan's hands. The blond man looks grim but his smile arises a second later, "Congratulations, Aladdin."

Sapphires twinkle as Aladdin reaches out for the hat. He's whimpering now, touching it as if it will fly away if he gets too excited. He grabs the hat, tucking it onto his head with glee that Morgiana's never witnessed. Yunan summons a large volume into his hands, holding it out to Aladdin, "I want you to take care of Morgiana, this is your first assignment. Be her key when the way is locked."

Aladdin flips through the book of recipes he's been given, "Yunan, this is…'The Grimoire'! This is mine?!"

"Once you discover your own potions, you may add them to the book and pass it on to your successor." Aladdin looks as if he could pass out at any moment.

"I…will make you proud, master." The blue haired boy is on the verge of tears.

"One more thing." Yunan materializes a ball, its smooth surface shining with a multitude of colours, "Here."

Aladdin takes the ball into his hands, making it vanish and reappear, "What's this?" He asks, puzzled by the nature of the ball.

"You'll find out all its secrets eventually. Its growth is dependent on Morgiana's growth, meaning that you'll need to see Morgiana to her journey's end if you want to figure it out." Aladdin looks to Morgiana, grinning.

"That shouldn't be a problem." Aladdin links their hands together, "Right, Mor?"

"I suppose." She sounds unsure.

Yunan hands Morgiana the final item, a bag of gold coins. Both herself and Aladdin were slapped silly. This is so much! "What, do you think you'll be back here by the end of the week?"

The sky is a little lighter than earlier, the sun's begun shaking off its sleep. Morgiana's changed into her new clothing, she adores the outift. Yunan opens the front door and turns to the two at his back. His eyes close in silent meditation. After his moment, his eyes open and he smiles reassuringly, touching the top of Morgiana and Aladdin's heads with his hands, "You both will always have a home to return to. No matter the circumstance, watch over each other alright?" They both nod, "I suggest you head north, the summer season around this time of year is more bearable than within the coming months."

Morgiana nods, looking at the map. Yunan traces a recommended path with his finger. This is happening. She's doing this. Really, doing this.

Aladdin takes Morgiana's arm after she covers her head with her cloak, "We're good, yeah?" Yunan watches as they both walk out the door.

"Of course." Morgiana says.

Looking back at the man who watched over them, once again caught in his silent meditation, they both bow one last time, "Take care and thank you, Yunan." "Thank you very much, master."

This is the beginning. This is Morgiana's journey, her first step out of the thorns. This is her revenge.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Merriment clung to the warm atmosphere surrounding his marvelous city. Festivities raged on from sunrise until nightfall. The streets were alive with lights, laughter, as his citizens parade across the city. Gaudy, bright costumes adorned with sparkling gemstones and sleek feathers could be seen near and far. Their extravagant yet scandalous designs leave little to the imagination. Dancing and entertainment reigns through the night, the upbeat tempo of music floods the air as potently as the harmonious mix of delicacies prepared by the kingdom's finest cooks. This jubilee hailed in his honour is almost perfect. No ill incidents reported, his citizens appear more than satisfied. Yet…there's a dissonance. He's been nagged by this sensation of unrest from the moment his eyes had opened that morning. Something is amiss. Something unpleasant.

"My King." He didn't need to look over his shoulder to recognize the brooding figure at his back, "Am I intruding?"

"Of course not, Ja'far. You're more than welcome to join me." Ever silent, his most trusted General strides to the king's right side, overlooking the streets.

Ja'far scrutinizes the energetic revelers below, his disgust evident by the appearance of a knitted brow, "I fail to understand why you allow such…an event. They act like beasts."

"You cast dogs a bone every once in a while, wouldn't you agree?" He remarks nonchalantly, leaning on the banister separating them from a deathly drop.

"Hn. Surprisingly you haven't partaken in any of it. Is something the matter?" Cold, black eyes scan his king's features.

"I'm just…a little bothered but nothing serious." His lips curve at one end, "I could say the same to you, Ja'far. Can't you lighten up for just one night?"

His General huffs defiantly, "Then who's left to defend you from an oncoming threat when all your soldiers have lowered their guards? Even the other Generals have morphed into drunkards in the span of a few hours. It's unsightly."

"Let's get a drink then." He draws away from the ashen stone railing, pacing towards the archway leading to his rooms. His General follows. A cheerful smile graced the king's lips, unlike the deep frown hidden beneath the ragged white bandages that veil the lower half of Ja'far's hard visage.

White hair whips about with each shake of Ja'far's head. He swiftly turns down the offer, "I'd rather not."

The king tilts his head to one side, "Ja'far. Is it true that I am your king?" Slithers of his commandant persona weave within each word directed at his cornered General.

"Of course." Ja'far bows, performing the posh poise with precise perfection, "Without a shadow of doubt, my king."

"Good," Sinbad turns to his faithful servant, drawing closer with slow, calculated strides. He notes the awareness within those black, abysmal pools studying his every movement. A remarkable gaze that sees all, one that's witnessed a multitude of corruptions just as he has. Sins that man should never lay eyes on. This world truly is vile. Clamping a muscled arm around Ja'far's slender neck, he drags the younger man out of the cool night air, much to his General's displeasure, "I am your king, just as I am your friend. Take a page from Sharrkan's book, Ja'far. It's a celebration!"

Ja'far's sullen reaction was foreseen but nonetheless he allows himself to be drawn away, complying to the king's selfish wish, "Will this be a proper distraction from that which bothers you?" Ja'far's steel eyes glance at the king's cool features.

"Somewhat." He has high hopes for the tankards of ale awaiting to quench his thirst and take his mind off certain things. That, and he wouldn't mind catching Ja'far in a rare case of drunken stupor, "The Muses are singing. They tell of a very special friend of mine who's made her first move."

Ja'far radiates a biting cold that touches the king instantly, "Oh?"

The king releases his frosty General's neck, wondering if he's made a mistake. He doubts Ja'far will unwind tonight, now that hostile visions are swimming in his head. Ah well, "The Muses are never wrong. They lament, 'The Scarlet Thread has begun to unravel'. Such a dreary song, it's disheartening."

"Do they say more about her?" Thousands of tactics and plots traverse Ja'far's strategic mind, "Her location? Or maybe-"

"You're worried. Don't be," At the disruptive words, he could tell that his General holds back an offensive retort, "She'll make her way to me eventually. Soon, and very soon. For now, we drink!" With child-like energy, the king takes Ja'far by the arm – his General taken by surprise, which doesn't happen often – and zooms to the nearest source of alcohol.

)*~*(

Does everyone have a childhood experience – or many – where their burning curiosity got the better of them, forcing them into a very undesirable situation? Morgiana can conjure up a handful of those numerous instances in her mind. Although, one scenario in particular has forever been branded in her memory.

At the end of her dismal final lesson with Myron one day, Morgiana was beyond drained. There's only so much geography one can take in the span of an hour. Her tutor drawled on and on about the four seasons, how they affect the weather and overall climate across Magi's Eight Territories. What does that have to do with Morgiana? It's not like she would ever leave the Fanalis' Territory to visit another, father is stingy like that. Will she ever need that information in the future? Highly unlikely. What she did need, was excitement! Thrills and hype to escape the dreadful spell of boredom looming over her. For that, she needed Lo'Lo'. Her personal guard would normally be waiting to escort the princess to her next activity for the day but he was nowhere to be found once Morgiana was dismissed. Myron was fuming like a kettle, livid beyond reasoning. The princess was smart enough to stay out of her murderous teacher's way. She could already hear Myron's report in her head: Lady Morgiana's jester of a personal guard is as slack and useless as a worn rubber band when it comes to fulfilling his royal duties.

Morgiana slipped away from Myron, stealthily abandoning her tutor while the older woman basked in a fiery rage mingled with the sweet satisfaction of handing clear cut evidence to the King of Lo'lo's miniscule misdeed. Myron can be so ridiculous. It's possible that he ran into some trouble. Morgiana asked a few persons loitering in the area about her guard's whereabouts. Not long after inquiring, she was led to the soldier's barracks at the back of the castle.

 _"Are you sure about this?"_ A voice tainted with worry touched her ears when she rounded a corner to the large, fortified building that housed the palace guards. Morgiana quickly retraced her steps, peaking a small head out as she studied the three men situated at a round table.

Lo'lo's hearty laughter resonates through the air as he grabs one of the dark pitchers off the cedar tabletop, its foaming contents slosh out as his rough grasp attaches to the jug's slender handle. Her personal guard guzzles the entire drink in one gulp, releasing a contented sigh while slamming the large mug onto the wobbly table, _"It isn't called a man's drink for nothing! Now, are you men or should I fetch the palace seamstress to make you two a pair of skirts?"_

 _"But…aren't you suppose to be somewhere else?"_ One of the guards forms the first excuse that came to mind, _"What happened to Lady Morgiana?"_

Lo'Lo's eyes widen for a moment. So he did forget. Morgiana pouts slightly. Her personal guard shoots out of his seat, his footsteps far from graceful. He leans on the table for some time, the other men with him also stand, _"Captain, are you…?"_

 _"Better get going before Myron starts whining."_ Too late for that. Lo'lo' shakes his head furiously and stands his full height. He strides over to the nearest palace entrance while the other men vanish into their barracks. What a surprise, they never caught wind of her presence. But how? Lo'lo's nose is as sharp as a sword, he has Morgiana's scent on lock.

Wouldn't it be fun to play hide and seek with Lo'lo'? He searches for Morgiana when she, in actuality, will be a safe distance behind him. Then while they play their one-sided game, Myron gets hold of him, then Lo'lo' will be even more determined to find her but fails to do so, then he panics and has every guard in the palace searching for the princess, then father finds out, then someone loses their job, then their head…

What a morbid though.

She should catch up and surprise him with an attack from behind, that sounds good. Morgiana follows Lo'lo's trail but pauses suddenly. The guards left behind their drinks. What did Lo'lo' call it, 'a man's drink'? Is there really such a thing, that only men can drink it, but not females? Wouldn't it be nice to show them that she can drink it too?

Morgiana took hold of a half full pitcher, staring into the depths of the beverage's vermillion hue. She took a long sniff, the sharp aroma of spice and something else emanating from the jug attacks her nose and her head spins for a moment. What is this? Morgiana carefully lifts the pitcher up to her mouth, the drink slightly grazes her lower lip before she takes a small taste.

 _It's hot!_

She remembers clearly what happened after that initial sampling. Her entire throat went dry as if every drop of moisture in her mouth had suddenly evaporated. She wanted to detached her tongue which burned like an unquenchable fire. Her temperature began rising, tears pooled at her eyes and her head spun as a strange aftertaste inflicted a dizzy spell on her conscious mind. Lo'lo' and his other guards were given a light punishment, for indirectly putting the princess in harm's embrace. Her father and Myron figured that she suffered enough at the hand of what they called a 'fireball'. The princess learned many lessons that day.

If you're curious about something, sometimes it's best you simply ignore it. As the saying goes, ignorance is bliss.

Never drink from a cup when you don't know what's inside of it. Don't judge her, Morgiana was what, nine at the time? She's fairly certain there are people out there who've done it too.

Alcoholic beverages have horrifying side effects, they burn your mouth as if you've swallowed the sun, befuddle the senses and can take over your mind! Drink responsibly.

Morgiana can never erase that scorching heat she experienced many years ago. She always thought that nothing could compare to that insatiable fire. Until today.

"It's so hot!"

Morgiana quietly responds to Aladdin's weary cry, "Understatement of the century."

Myron's geography lessons had purpose after all. Morgiana and Aladdin made the rigorous trek across the desert lands within the Kingdom of Fire. It's been three days since they've spotted an inkling of green. The familiar forestry is sorely missed for its cool canopy of shade, now nonexistent under the harsh glower of the Fire Kingdom's noonday sun. As they moved northward, sightings of lush vegetation began to dwindle, replaced by dry earth. The Fire Kingdom is famous for its arid climate. Rainfall in this Territory would be considered a miracle, yet somehow, they've survived this long while inflicted by the curse of long term drought. Morgiana's curious to know their secret.

She couldn't tell whose panting was louder between hers and Aladdin's. Her cloak was suffocating, the dark fabric clung to her sweaty skin. The aching desire to strip it off was tempting but at the same time it offered adequate shade from the sun. Besides, out here in this flat landscape, her red hair would be visible for miles if revealed. The last thing she wants to do after deciding her own fate is to complain, but Morgiana really needs a shower.

Poor Aladdin trails a few steps behind her, appearing as if he'll pass out at any moment. Creases line his face, aging the young boy as he suffers this laborious abuse along with Morgiana. She felt sorry for him. A storm of wind shoves them backwards, carrying with it a fury of twirling sand that's near blinding. Morgiana draws her hood lower, reminded of the ardent heat hidden within her thick clothing. Her eyes scan the area for any possible place of rest. The distance seems far but Morgiana made out a tall rocky structure ahead.

"There's something up ahead, we can stop there for a while." She announces, barely forming the words as her throat's been severely dehydrated.

Aladdin catches up with Morgiana's stride, the news granting him a sudden surge of energy, "Thank you." He speaks to no one in particular.

They press on through the swaying waves of heat lingering in the atmosphere, their goal in clearer sight now that their pace has increased. Morgiana's thankful for her good senses that heeded Yunan's suggestion of taking a pair of sandals with her. She didn't want to but couldn't say no to her kind guardian. Her stubborn streak could have cost her many layers of skin under what would have been broiled feet.

"Never…in my life…have I been…happy…to see a rock!" Aladdin carelessly collapses in the sand below a shaded area of the large malformed boulder. Its irregular shape forms a convenient stone shelter. Morgiana drops to the ground besides Aladdin, sand instantly clings to her exposed hands and clothing. With high hopes that there aren't any wandering eyes ogling their way, Morgiana removes her cloak. Mere minutes more in that thing and she might have passed out due to heat stroke.

A metal canteen of water is passed to Morgiana after Aladdin takes a few sips. She drinks a reasonable amount and hands the bottle back to her best friend. Lunch comes soon after, Aladdin rummaging through his satchel for rations. The simplicities of life can truly be appreciated when you've been taken out of your comfort zone. Here she sat, chewing on raw nuts and blueberries. Would you ever guess she was once considered royalty?

The sounds of wind and the shifting sands entertain their ears as they eat. Aladdin pulls out his notebook and starts writing…slowly. He carefully draws crooked letters while Morgiana watches in silence. His hand quakes while he suddenly stalls, looking thoughtful, "What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing, just the spelling of a word. Don't help me." He's determined to write it all on his own. Morgiana thought it best to leave him be.

She turns her attention to the map of Magi. They were on course. As per Yunan's instructions, they were heading to the north, the Territories of both the Fire Kingdom and the Wind Tribe. These Territories are known for their dry weather conditions, much more so for the Kingdom of Fire to the north east. According to her rough estimate of how long it took them on foot to travel from their home to this location, which should be on the outskirts of the desert, they should arrive at the Fire Kingdom's capital in…seventeen days. That's seventeen days without a shower! Might be more so considering she hasn't a clue as to the conditions of their intended path moving forward. The desert is unpredictable, as is any foreign land. It could take a whole month.

"Mor?" Aladdin's inquisitive tone catches her attention. Morgiana looks away from the map to her younger companion still hunched over his notebook, "You look troubled. Is everything okay?"

She shakes her head, "Yes, everything is fine Aladdin." She lies smoothly, even with the distraught expression pasted on her face. Morgiana rolls up the map. "Are you done?"

"For now, yes." He shuts the book, returning all his belongings to his pack.

Morgiana rises from the ground, shaking off freckles of sand on her body. Her cloak is securely fastened, her head hooded, "We should keep moving."

"This place would make a good shelter for the night you know." Aladdin remarks, passing a hand through his sand coated hair as he stands.

"I agree, but we should try covering as much distance to the capital as possible. The day is half done, we can't afford to waste any time." Her reasoning debunks Aladdin's argument. The blue haired boy complies with no complaint, nodding with a sure smile.

Once again, the duo is exposed to the despicable environs. After this, Morgiana never wants to see a golden grain of sand ever again. In spite of the harrowing weather, a small mercy shines through as the sun too makes its own move. No longer beating on their backs like a wicked whip, the sun subtly recedes its sizzling heat. Rather, a gentle, warmer radiance glows from the massive yellow beacon in the serene sky.

"Hey Mor. Do you see something up ahead?" Aladdin squints as his sapphire eyes search the horizon awaiting their arrival. Morgiana exerts less effort to see what her friend is referring to. It's spotted, a large…flower bud? The unknown entity takes better form with each footstep forward.

"It _is_ a flower bud." Mogiana says, a hint of surprise and wonder in her quiet voice.

Aladdin sprints ahead, highly interested in the emerald anomaly whose existence is tremendously out of place among the heated vicinities of this desert area. Morgiana rushes to catch up to Aladdin. Who knows what that strange plant is all about. Well…now that she thinks about it, Aladdin might know. Morgiana's feet slip haphazardly every now and then as the unstable sands beneath her feet find it difficult to remain a balanced surface. She could feel the added strain in her muscles as she runs through the sand. This would make for an excellent training ground, but not now.

"This looks incredible!" Aladdin's eyes are sparkling that studious sparkle. He's already fished out the tome Yunan willed to him by the time Morgiana arrives. A real flower bud, and a large one at that. Morgiana's arms would wrap around its entire circumference if she were to give the odd plant a hug. Tiny spikes scaled the bud's surface, even its stem, which Morgiana noticed was hidden below the sand.

Aladdin had summoned his reading spectacles with his materialization ability, the thick silver eyepiece sat comfortably on his nose as its function allows the user to skim a book remarkably fast, making any documented information much quicker to find within books containing hundreds of pages, "Hmm…in these desert conditions…and the spines…could it be…caryophyllales? But then…what family?"

"Can't help you there." Morgiana says, walking around the bud. Aladdin gives her a small smile then returns to his notes. It's just so random. Too random. Morgiana doesn't like it. Still, Aladdin seems to be fond of the thing. She hasn't seen this side of him in days, the curious genius who's ever eager to increase his already extensive well of knowledge. Aladdin's on his own journey as well. Morgiana has no reason to be a hinderance to her brother.

When Aladdin's bare hand stretches out to touch the bud's body, however, Morgiana sings a different tune, "Wait, Aladdin. I don't think you should just touch it. What if it's poisonous or something?" She still holds doubts on this abnormal plant. It's not wise to simply carry out experiments on it. Curiosity carries consequence.

Aladdin frowns, removing the spectacles near his bright eyes, "But I won't know what species of plant this is. What if it has some medicinal purpose that's yet to be discovered?" He dematerializes the eyewear, exchanging the glasses for a small vial and scalpel. He catches the bottle but allows the knife to fall, plucking it out of the sand. Good call, "It'll be fine." Morgiana wasn't swayed in the slightest but allowed Aladdin to go on. If anything happens to him…

The fascinated alchemist gingerly strokes the flower bud in amazement, its spikes ineffective against Aladdin's touch. Morgiana's apprehension vanishes by a millimeter, at least the boy hasn't turned purple or had a break out of boils. Not yet. Aladdin uncorks the empty vial, the popping sound it produces mingles in the air. Morgiana absently shakes off the sand that's now covered her feet, watching as Aladdin moves in for a sample of the plant's emerald skin. Carefully, he pokes the bud with the scalpel, the likes of which tears a small incision on the enclosed flower. A transparent slime slithers out, coating the thin, metal blade. Aladdin never made the motion of slicing downwards. Also, he surpassed Morgiana's height long ago. Morgiana looks down, her feet were covered once again, even Aladdin stood ankle deep in the sand. That popping sound lingered much longer than it had to earlier…

Morgiana's sharpened senses prickled her nerves. Her ears don't hear anything, but the slightest tremor under her feet makes the red head grab Aladdin's arm, "Run!" She screams, hauling Aladdin as far away from their former spot as possible. The vibrations underfoot increase in magnitude, causing Morgiana's clumsy feet to fail. The two tumbled to the desert floor when a mighty quake rumbles, rattling their very bones. An explosion of sand erupts upward, a loud boom resounds in the air along with Aladdin and Mogiana's unhindered screams. The two were buried in a pile of unearthed sand. With her solid grip on Aladdin's arm, Morgiana squirms out of the sand, relieved when she could finally inhale something that wasn't sand. Aladdin coughs violently besides her while a chilling shadow covers them from above.

Morgiana notices first, her hold on Aladdin containing the strength to break his lean arm. Aladdin too was frozen once he beheld the lengthy serpent, swaying ominously as what they assumed was a flower bud, in actuality was its swollen head. Dew drips from an open red mouth with tiny teethlike spines across the foreboding opening.

Aladdin screams, a shrill crescendo that jolts Morgiana's heart up her chest cavity and back in place. She covers his loud mouth with a sandy hand and Aladdin's wail transforms into a fit of coughs due to the dust Morgiana unintentionally shoves down his throat. The gargantuan plant whips in the wind, its large head bobbing randomly as if searching for them. Morgiana hisses in Aladdin's ear, "Quiet!" She could feel his heart beating against hers, the two frightened pulses in complete sync, "It'll hear you."

Aladdin speaks against her palm but she couldn't make out his words. How do they get out of this!? The plant masquerades as a slinking snake, one wrong move and they're both finished. Morgiana wonders why it hasn't attacked. Maybe…it's blind? Quickly, Morgiana finds one of their empty water flasks in her bag. She tosses the container as far away as possible. It hits the sand with a silent thud. Instantaneously, the flower head shifts in the bottle's direction. Rising even higher from below the sand, the plant serpent forms a wide arc in the air, its head landing in the spot where the canteen was abandoned.

This creature follows movements.

Morgiana's hand was forcefully removed from Aladdin's mouth. He spits out some sand, discomfort plastered on his features, "That was nasty!"

"Shh!" Morgiana hisses.

"Morgiana." Aladdin speaks loudly and the red head covers his mouth again.

She does her best to keep as still as possible while they both lay on the sandy earth, "Do you want to be that thing's dinner, or do you want to live to see dinner?" Morgiana couldn't help the hard tone of her hushed voice.

Again, he speaks but the words are incomprehensible. Morgiana lessens her hand to hear what Aladdin says, "I want to live to see dinner!" He shouts at the top of his lungs.

"Aladdin!" Morgiana's voice is laced with a biting cold. She could strangle the consciousness out of him! That's her Fanalis blood boiling.

The tall serpent plant rises from the sand. Composed impeccably, it straightens out and touches the sky. Slithering back into the ground from whence it initially sprouted, the plant wiggles on its slow descent into the sand. Finally, the mouth closes up, forming the green bud sitting comfortably in the dormant position that Morgiana and Aladdin found it in.

A breath later and Morgiana tentatively moves her feet. No movement from the flower bud. She stands up slowly. Aladdin follows suit as though nothing happened. Morgiana scurries away from the giant plant serpent's head, stopping until they were a safe distance away…hopefully.

She taps Aladdin on his back, "Why are you so carefree!?" She taps him again, this time the blow is heavier, "Did you have a death wish back there? I told you to be silent and you scream at the top of your lungs! I get that you are curious about foreign things but…but Aladdin please, use your head! I thought you were a genius, not a homicidal maniac. You could have killed both of us with your-."

"Mor." Her words are stopped by her best friend's calm voice. Aladdin smiles at his livid sister, in spite of the tongue lashing Morgiana inflicts upon him. The blue haired boy takes Morgiana's cheeks into his hands. He closes his eyes, gently allowing their foreheads to touch. Seconds pass before Aladdin falls back, letting go of Morgiana, "It's true that I'm a genius and not a homicidal maniac. I'm telling you, everything was fine."

"Fine?" She says, the sudden peace that cooled off her simmering anger was burned to bits, "What was fine about what just happened?"

His smile falters into a wry one, "Mor. I, uh…don't know how to tell you this without sounding like the condescending genius that I am but…plants…don't have ears." The adrenalin surging through Morgiana's blood evaporates instantly, "Or eyes."

Morgiana turns away from Aladdin's face, trying but failing to suppress the embarrassment that's risen to her cheeks, "Well, we didn't know anything about that plant."

"Actually…" Aladdin drawls, "I figured it was a carnivorous plant species the instant I saw it. I just wanted to document as much about it as possible when it became active until it returned to its dormant state. A plant of that variety wouldn't stay active for a very long period of time considering the sort of climate it thrives in. Chucking that bottle for it to follow was a very nice touch, Mor. But what I really want is to observe it at night. Oh, and collect some of its sap."

She waits until the fluster visible on her face disappears before turning back to lock eyes with Aladdin, "Right now, I'm debating whether or not I should punch you."

"Love you too, sis." Aladdin grins, wrapping his arms around Morgiana.

Looks like she didn't need to debate about it after all.

Once the day's brimming excitement died to an uneventful lull, as did the setting sun, Morgiana and Aladdin decided to settle for the night. They found another rock formation, but this one lacked natural roofing like the previous stone structure. Aladdin summons a large white sheet into his hands. A normal genius would have, you know, stored a tent in their magical storage unit but Morgiana shall hold her peace. If she wanted a tent, she would have packed one. Her back lay against the stone wall, her pack behind her as a lumpy cushion. Aladdin always takes over the first watch, allowing Morgiana the comfort of sleeping first after a long day of walking. She would wake in the middle of the night to find her best friend tending to a hot fire as he prepares his peculiar potions. They slept in shifts to minimize mishaps. You never know what could happen, especially once daylight fades and murky shadows rise.

The white sheet drifts atop Morgiana's body, caressing her in a low warmth that complements her cozy cloak's heat. They have no fire tonight, no wood from brittle trees to keep the cold away and for Aladdin's creative use. If he doesn't practice his trade within four…three days, with all certainty and no shadow of doubt, the boy will be a mess. She supposes that the flower serpent was enough to satiate Aladdin's cravings, at least for now.

Natural light emanating from the full moon floods the desert wastelands, illuminating the area just as any fire would. Morgiana stares, stunned at the marvelous beauty of the light source above. A smile forms on her lips. Aladdin joins her under their cover, his body heat blending with Morgiana's while they stare into the starry sky. Her best friend's head falls sideways, landing on top of hers.

"I'm sorry. For being angry with you." Morgiana confesses, leaning comfortably into Aladdin's neck.

"It's cool, Mor. I tend to rile up many people with my…antics." He says and she laughs a little.

They rest peacefully under the moonlit night.

Not for long, however.

Morgiana was on her feet in an instant while Aladdin clumsily crawls out from under the large sheet. A band of popping noises burst through the air, echoing on the calm desert breeze. An earth splitting quake reverberates, followed by an explosive display of sandy sprinkles that glitter in the sky. As far as the eye could see, standing confidently under the stars were hundreds of the flower serpent from earlier. A chill runs down Morgiana's spine. These…were all under the sand?

Aladdin stares up with childish wander twinkling in his wide eyes. One by one, the bud mistaken mouths split in four, dropping limply to reveal the most stunning flower petals Morgiana has ever witnessed. Dew drops coated on the huge flowery surfaces sparkle, reflecting the moon's perfect light.

Treacherous sand dunes by day, immaculate flower garden by night.

"Wow." Aladdin was breathless, as was Morgiana. To think that if things were different…she would never be here to behold this wonderous sight at this very moment along with the one close beside her.

"Looks like you can observe it at night after all." Aladdin meets Morgiana's shiny gaze. She takes her brother by the hand.

His vial and scalpel are already in the other hand, "This must be another dormant state, how it sleeps at night. I need to get some of that sap."

Soon, Aladdin was climbing the nearest flower, a shorter one with less spines along its lengthy stem, "Careful." Morgiana watches Aladdin ascend, following his movements on the ground in case he slips. Aladdin arrives to the flower's bright zenith, scooping up two vials of dew. His tools and freshly acquired ingredient are whisked away into oblivion.

"This is so amazing! I wish Yunan could see it." Aladdin plucks out one of the toothy spines, its length that of his pinky finger, making it too, vanish into the night.

Morgiana studies the boy's moves as he scales down the large stem. Then he falls.

She gasps, rushing to find Aladdin's shadow above her. The catch wasn't perfect but Aladdin is safe in Morgiana's arms, "Aladdin!"

His arms were around Morgiana's torso as he smiles at her, "That ended better than I expected. Thanks Mor. I knew you'd catch me." She lets go of Aladdin who falls to the sand. Rubbing his back once he sits up, Aladdin says, "Still better than climbing all the way down." Morgiana kicks some sand at him.

Aladdin dusts off flecks of sand before a clear smirk creeps onto his face. A glowing hand hovers over the sand. In seconds, a smooth, sandy ball nestles in her best friend's fingertips. The singular ball breaks apart, morphing into a multitude of smaller sand balls, "Want to play a game, sis?" Aladdin rises to his feet menacingly.

"Don't you dare." She scowls at Aladdin, fixating her eyes on those rotating orbs that foretell of a sandy storm heading in her direction.

"I dare!" Knowing he will suffer the consequences when this is all over. The balls fly towards Morgiana.

An agonizing scream breaks through the air, a wail of utter horror that chills the blood. A woman's scream. Aladdin's sand balls freeze in the air then merge into the single ball. He wills his new creation to dematerialize, "Who was that?"

The wind makes it hard to find a scent, but Morgiana could sense a human presence nearby. Several of them, "We're not alone in this desert."

"And the blood curdling scream didn't make that obvious." Aladdin says. One look from Morgiana and he slaps both hands to his mouth, releasing a silent 'Ow!' a heartbeat later.

"Want to check it out?" She inquires, unsure if they should.

Aladdin grins, rushing over to pack their stuff, "Is that even a question."

"It is, couldn't you tell by my tone?" Morgiana quips. Aladdin throws the red head her pack while the two share an identical smirk.

The same voice screeches once more and the two best friends were broken out of their rapport.

"Come on." Morgiana traces the sound to its source. Five minutes away if they sprint.

Morgiana was on the move with Aladdin on her heels, "Right behind you."

* * *

 **Thank you, thank you, thank you, to all you wonderful people out there who've read this story thus far! Love it, hate it, thank you! Thanks to you amazing people who reviewed, followed or faved this story, it keeps me motivated to write more. I am so serious, when I get that notification I freak out, even in public...anyway! I'm trying to post a new chapter on the 23rd of each month, I'm super busy almost all the time - I technically work 7 days a week - but I really want to put my all into this story and finish it. If I do get adequate time to work on this, I'll update earlier but for now, 23rd...maybe 24th...and possibly 25th, depends. But 23rd! Stay amazing, amazing peoples!**

 **AND...Happy Holidays Everyone! ^_^**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Lo'lo'!" A frustrated Morgiana fumes like a boiling kettle, glaring at the kingdom's most horrible personal guard in the history of the Fanalis dominion.

Said guard was rolling around in a patch of emerald grass at the bare feet of his thirteen year old princess. His muted laughter further ignites her bottomless well of anger, "I'm sorry. It's just, your punches are so cute!"

"They are not cute!" She pronounces, punching at the air above Lo'lo's head, "and neither are my kicks!"

"Oh yeah?" He chides jokily with an air of palpable smugness.

"Yeah." She replies, clenching her tiny fists at her sides.

"Oh yeah?" Lo'lo' pressed further.

"Yeah!" Morgiana screams, kicking Lo'lo' at the top of his exposed head, resulting in a loud grunt of hurt that sharply cuts through the moonlit night, "Keep it down Lo'lo'! You will alert the other guards!" They were at their usual training grounds, a secluded area off the edge of the western gardens.

"Says the banshee screaming at the top of her lungs!" He responds, flipping onto his feet in a smooth motion Morgiana must learn to imitate.

Morgiana whispers with a trace of vexation laced in every word, "Are you going to train me or not?" Her small cheeks puff up with a fleeting hint of garnet from the cold.

Lo'lo' strolls away from the princess, messaging his throbbing scalp, "Of course. I wouldn't be here freezing my-"

"Well get to training!" She cuts in, abandoning all respect towards the older Fanalis, "Why did you ask me to punch you if you were just going to laugh at me?" Her voice dies down as her head too lowers itself. She was shaking, from the cool breeze or her thoughts, no one could tell, "Brother never laughed...when he was training me."

You could slice the air using a knife, without success, after that dampening statement. Lo'lo's facial expression drops, his entire demeanor transforms into the reputable leader of the royal guards that rarely bubbles to the surface when he's around the princess. He spins on his heel and drops to one knee, bowing low in an act of pure prostration, "Apologies, my princess. Let us begin."

Jogging and weightlifting became a part of Morgiana's midnight lessons with Lo'lo', as did the beneficial skill of sneaking out of her rooms without detection. Lo'lo' made it easier for Morgiana to disappear from the castle's impenetrable walls, waltzing his men who guard her portion of the palace into different areas while the princess slinks out into the night. On occasion, Morgiana has been caught by one or two soldiers on duty. They, unfortunately, were sworn into secrecy, lest they incur the wrath of both Myron and Lo'lo' upon their heads. For varying reasons.

With the progression of their rigorous lessons, Morgiana steadily moved onto actual combat. She could never match up to Lo'lo' in strength, speed and agility. In terms of wit, maybe.

She fell after being pushed back by a staggering blow to her right shoulder.

"Why am I so bad at this." Morgiana grimaced as Lo'lo' offers her a hand. He raises the fallen princess onto her tired feet.

Lo'lo' scratches his unshaved stubble, giving the princess a toothy and encouraging smile, "No matter how hard you try, there is no way you can learn everything in just one day, my princess. Combat training takes time to master, and I can tell you without a shadow of doubt that there's no soul who knows it all. Fighting styles take on evolution, tactics change to suit the progression of a battle." His large hand runs through Morgiana's disheveled hair, "You must be patient. You will only get better from here. Now, let's try that again."

"Alright." She nods, taking on a guarded stance with her right foot one step ahead of the left and both arms centered at the forefront of her face.

Lo'lo' sprints towards his princess, Morgiana meets him halfway. Fists are tossed in a mystifying blur as student and teacher face off. Morgiana rapidly loses momentum, sinking into a dormant state of complete defense against Lo'lo' massive blows, "Never fall into the enemy's pace. Make them match your tempo, then attack!"

His advice is well received but his pupil has trouble using it. Lo'lo's beastly movements we're overwhelming. Morgiana becomes lost in the rhythmical wave of Lo'lo's calculative jabs, "You're falling asleep!" He barks, snapping Morgiana's attention out of the consoling lull that consumes her. She slips, falling onto the grass without an inkling of grace.

Her back pulsates a little, but Morgiana doesn't flaunt her discomfort. One of the most challenging lessons so far, never show emotions that will betray you in battle. "You are way too strong, Lo'lo'. Go easy on me."

"Only a fool would go easy on their opponent in a fight." With his bulky arms folded, Lo'lo' regards Morgiana with a stern glance, "Gender does not determine the victor. Myron is a prime example. On a good day, for her and a bad day for me, she could wipe the floor with my face." Lo'lo' admits begrudgingly, picking up the princess with a sweaty hand.

"Really?" Morgiana has only seen Myron as the renowned tutor that she is to the princess, not the rumored powerhouse that once fought for the safety of the kingdom, "Myron can actually fight?"

"Let's not talk about that. It's a...sore spot for her." He grins widely, "Now, back to training."

)~*~(

One. Fifteen feet. Right handed swordsman.

Two. Twenty feet. Lancer. Right hand.

Three. Left handed dagger. Fourteen feet…thirteen.

Four. Sword. Right hander. Six feet.

Five. Thirty feet. Barehanded…

"Please! I beg you! Spare us. Take whatever you want but…not our lives. Please!"

A sharp gleam of silver touches the frantic woman's throat. She rapidly cowers into silence, shaking uncontrollably once a cruel line of scarlet trails down her vulnerable neck, "Say it again, I could barely understand you with that trembling voice of yours." The dagger wielder sneers, tightening his brutal chokehold on the trembling woman.

The eerie firelight surrounding those uncouth thugs and their defenseless captives, casts deep shadows across the sandy plain now overtaken by dormant, malignant weeds. Five prisoners. Two men writhe painfully on the dusty earth, sickly dark wounds can be seen against their tattered clothing. Another man, droopily standing before a tainted longsword that pokes his exposed back, stains the sand black with bleeding arms that hang limply from his sides. The screeching woman along with a slim brunette now lying in the sand are the only females. Five hostages, five enemies. Treading carefully is key.

Two. Fourteen feet, "She said we can have whatever we want." An amused grin splits across the lancer's face as he draws the young girl off the ground near his feet, grains of sand spilling off her quivering body, "That said, I'll be taking this little lady."

"No!" The pleading woman bursts into sorrowful tears, "Not my daughter. You can have anything else! Take me instead! Not Sahsa…please…" Her voice breaks under the heavy strain of dreadful emotions that haunt the despairing mother. Her defenseless child dangles from the harsh grip of the tall man uplifting her a few feet off the ground. Large tears pool at her wide brown eyes that reflect her bitter helplessness.

The young girl, possibly the age of a certain red haired royal, whimpers as her captor's grinning face draws near her terrified one. "Please, leave her be!" Carelessly attempting to rise from the sand is an unsavory reminder for the radical woman as the deathly dagger inches closer to her raw throat.

Morgiana assesses their chance of survival as…probable. Her only worry is that impassive man, casually leaning against their captive's wooden carriage at the edge of the camp. He wields no arms, but his defense is solid. Not even a weak spot. His reptilian, amber eyes gaze into the distance but Morgiana can sense his alertness from her position behind a plant serpent's stem. She steadies her thumping heartbeat, sighing lightly. Hopefully she wasn't detected. Not that anything other than the woman's screaming protests could be heard. Nonetheless, it's an appreciated cover. Morgiana tightens the hood of her cloak. Her ruby eyes connect with a pair of sparkling sapphires about five feet away. She nods, he returns the signal.

A stalking presence lurking in the foreboding shadows transcends upon the sword user closest to their position. Aladdin swiftly covers the man's inattentive face with a dark cloth, drawing him into the darkness without a squeak. Morgiana creeps towards them, disarming the male of his sheathed sword and anything else proven useful on his person. His sword, a few silvers she adds to their swollen coin pouch, the rest is garbage. Although, Aladdin surprisingly steals the dirty orange bandana around the unconscious man's neck. He uses it to bound the man's mouth along with the black handkerchief he used earlier to suffocate him.

One of Aladdin's creations, a pungent concoction that submits the senses into a state of idleness. In his hand is a second cloth he keeps as far away from his nose as possible. Luckily for them, the other bandits haven't realized the sudden absence of one of their own. Good.

"Don't hurt her, she's just a child!"

A heavy-handed slap silences the atmosphere. The wailing woman flies through the air, landing in a sandy spot near the raging fire. Morgiana hopes that the crack she just heard came from those very flames.

"Shut up! I'm tired of your irritating screams woman!" The dagger wielder spat at the sobbing mother, nestled in the cool sand by the warm fire. Never again did she attempt to rise from the golden dust that coats her tanned skin. Her wounded companions recover from their initial shock as rage settles over them. One crawls to his knees from the gritty earth, shakily clawing towards the crying lady while the only hostage standing tries running over to her. His feet are swept aside before he can make it far by the bandit behind him. Sand enters his bloody wounds, his anguished grimace harmonizing with the other miserable howls singing in this dreary place.

"Let's get this over with, I'm already bored as–" A bone crunching snap ripples through the air, accompanied by an aching groan. The insufferable man with his dagger in hand is flattened into the emerald stem of a serpent plant about fifty feet away. He doesn't move, not even a twitch. He deserves worse than his prevalent paralysis. Morgiana wished that the plant creature would wake up and devour his wrecked body, devour them all!

By the looks of it, she has to finish them off on her own.

"What the–" Morgiana pounces on the puzzled lancer in succession. Her sudden apparition before his face spurs him to let go of the young girl. Morgiana effortlessly disarms the brute with a swift blow to his unguarded right arm. Morgiana's left leg follows up with a devastating kick to the man's right side. He skids far away from the campsite that's been stunned into silence by her uninvited entrance.

The other swordsman spirals after her with an immediate swing for Morgiana's hooded head. She jumps backwards, drawing her opponent as far away from the victims as possible, but he clears the distance instantly.

He's fast!

Morgiana slides to the right, dodging a wild stab at her torso. She dodges another, and another, dancing to his energetic rhythm. _'Never fall into the enemy's pace. Make them match your tempo, then attack!'_

She follows the ghostly instructions without hesitation. Twisting left and right without missing a step, Morgiana dashes like the wind against her opponent's perilous sword. She is the tempest. He is but a withered leaf, powerless in her wake. A dull blade that's steadily losing its previous precision. He's getting frustrated, unfocused. Morgiana bids her time, falling back as he clumsily advances. In her peripherals, the weaponless man emerges off his resting place while the other one she kicked off to the side of the camp claws to his feet. Morgiana needs to end this, and quickly!

She suddenly grabs her attacker's sword arm with her left hand, twisting it outward. He grunts in anguish as Morgiana turns his bulging arm against him. She draws the sharp steel away from his grasp, tossing it into the shadows at her back. A solid punch greets his tormented face, contorting his features with the searing ferocity packed behind her merciless right fist. He wails, soaring through the air on a crash collision course towards the lancer who just stood up. They both land in a sandy heap.

The swordsman was suddenly drawn into the darkness behind them. Screaming, his body is enveloped in shadows. Silence takes over. From the opponents who remain, to the five victims huddled in a dim corner of the camp.

Seems like Aladdin dragged him away by the feet, Morgiana isn't sure. It could've been some sort of malevolent creature. This forsaken desert impairs all her senses.

Lancer scrambles off his feet, breaking into a run. He sprints in the opposite direction of the looming oblivion that swallowed his companion moments ago.

Crack!

Morgiana inches back, blatantly horrified as a wild screech scrapes her ears. A brutal uppercut dealt by the amber eyed man blasts the lance wielder off his feet. He lands in a bed of vermillion flames that lick hungrily at his broken body. He rolls out of the fire and into the cool desert sand, a loud cacophony of curses stream from his singed lips. His agonizing wails transition into heavy gasps. Scorched flesh, charred clothing. The vile remnants of this stagnant, moaning heap of a man are kicked aside by a dark, remorseless boot.

Morgiana's eyes narrow from the man who's barely breathing, to the one who casually assaulted his comrade. Disgusting filth. Those snake-like eyes roam Morgiana's small frame, dissecting all that he can, given her hidden appearance. He steps forward, confidence emanating from his sluggish stride. Morgiana dons her guard, steadying her breath. There's no way to explain it but…he makes her anxious. For the first time in a long while, she comes face to face with an enigmatic opponent that Morgiana's not certain she can defeat.

An unprecedented barrage of sand is hurled at the last bandit standing. From the darkness surrounding the camp, Aladdin was able to conjure and toss the blinding projectiles on all sides. However, his attempts to stop this opponent are in vain as the amber eyed man continues onward at his slow pace, his sights set on the veiled red head. His reflexes are sharp, so much so that he's dodging Aladdin's brash assault instinctively. Not a grain of sand strokes his white vest or dark leathers.

Morgiana blinks within a second, stunned as she missed her enemy's advance. He teleports right in front of her shocked features with a solid fist to the left side of her head. Morgiana falls back but is able to recover with a clumsy double flip. Her attacker throws another punch that connects with her vulnerable torso. Morgiana's stomach churns, its meager contents rising up her throat but she forces them down while skidding backwards in the sand. She stops her speedy momentum by jumping into the air, landing at a safe distance from the amber eyed man. She notes the slight crease of his lips as amusement lingers on his rough visage. Amusement turns to laughter, a jovial chuckle unfitting the mood, "What a joke. A little girl was able to humiliate the lot of you? And you call yourselves men."

"Gender has nothing to do with fighting ability." Myron would have desecrated their entire brood, all the while sporting an infirm limb.

His smirk elevates Morgiana's distaste of him, "Tell me, girl. Who are you?"

Morgiana plays along, shrugging in response, "Simply a little girl, nothing more."

"I have a good feeling that I will enjoy this," A melody of snaps ring in her ears as he flexes his long fingers, "Someone has to save face. Even if you're a girl, I won't go easy on you."

"I expect nothing less from an uncouth brute." She states impassively.

The man sneers, "Such a smart mouth for a lady of the court." Morgiana flinches, "Am I right? You stink like a rotten noble." Does she really smell that bad already! "No matter. Once I'm done with you, you'll never use that pretty mouth of yours again! You might have already noticed but…" Morgiana felt his breath near her right ear, "I play rough."

His iron arm swats the back of Morgiana's head. She hits the sand a few feet away with painful pangs reverberating inside her skull. Morgiana attempts to stand up but one of her feet are captured by her opponent's icy hand. Morgiana smashes into the dusty ground before she's dragged along the sandy floor by the devious man. He swings her upwards in a perfect arc, with a final slam into the soil. Sand burns Morgiana's eyes as she grunts from his merciless beating. Pain punctures Morgiana's entire body. She shakily raises her face out of the sand, unable to cease her enemy's hand when he picks her up and throws her against a plant serpent's stem. She quickly slides down the prickly spines across its green body. Miraculously dodging a swift kick to her torso, Morgiana leaped out of the man's way. She scrambles to her feet, increasing the gap between them but the man follows after her.

Morgiana guards with both arms when his imminent strike pushes her back again. Morgiana flips on the offense, jumping into the fray of battle. The red head matches him, blow for bone breaking blow. Her hits aren't heavy, but their accuracy is exceptional. His punches have much more power but Morgiana can evade them without suffering much damage. Any bystander could see that she was slowly being overwhelmed by the sheer forcefulness of his furious strikes. Desperation emanates off both fighters in their savage attempts to conquer the other.

If Morgiana is a tempest, her adversary is a raging tsunami. Able to render her into a state of utter uselessness under the threat of his unparalleled supremacy. A sneaky uppercut breaks through their continuous flow. Morgiana shakily defends against it but was pushed back and falls to the ground.

The amber eyed villain pounces on her.

A hysterical war cry pierces through the air when a cloaked character springs out of the dark, tackling the amber eyed man as he sailed through the sky. Aladdin and her foe fall in a hazardous heap. Her brother arises first, the amber eyed man follows up a second later. With the abandoned lance in his grasp, the blue haired alchemist swings at their enemy. The lance misses their opponent's head, gently ruffling his dark hair. The man crouches low and with an extended leg, sweeps Aladdin off his feet and takes possession of the lengthy weapon in the same movement.

"So you're the one who's been hiding in the shadows all this time." Amber eyes scrutinize Aladdin who pushes against the black boot trampling his chest. Her friend wriggles to free himself from bondage but to no avail. Morgiana's sights widen as that deadly lance hovers over Aladdin's heart. Why would he jump out like that when sticking to the shadows was the safer option!

Morgiana didn't think. In one moment, she was paralyzed by the picture of Aladdin being skewered by that venomous spear. As blood and gore burst forth from beyond his ruptured chest cavity. In the next, her fingers wrap around the hilt of the snoozing sword strapped to her waist beneath her cloak. Morgiana's voice floods the atmosphere as she charges towards the amber eyed fiend, "Leave him alone!" Her shriek of a distraction was adequate for Aladdin's escape. Her brother forms a hefty sand ball, hurling it at their attacker. The man shrinks back, swiping sand out of his face. The blue haired alchemist crawls away from the amber eyed man's reach, rushing back into the dark.

A shrill whistle of steel against steel vibrates in the air. The man shakes off more sand from his face and hair with an excellent guard against Morgiana's swing. The lance fends her off easily. She changes course, swinging low, making contact with the spears sharp tip once again. Both her hands quiver under the sheer magnitude of his strength. She...couldn't hold on.

The man draws his weapon back. Swirling the lance in the air, he swings down on Morgiana's large sword that's powerless to defend it. Her grip slips on the metallic weapon. An advantage her enemy exploits without hesitation. He flips the lance up again and stabs at her shoulder. A small rip signals his successful jab, along with the burning sensation that overtakes her right side. Morgiana shrinks back, clutching her right shoulder now exposed to the elements. He's ruined Yunan's cloak, but that's not her main concern.

This fight is getting her nowhere.

At least Aladdin managed to escape. What was he thinking, engaging the enemy like that?

…

What _was_ he thinking?

Pondering on his actions for too long is unwise, given her opponent is standing a stone's throw away.

This man is better than Morgiana. Seasoned, compared to her untrained, unskilled fighting prowess. Faster, physically stronger, he definitely outranks her. Crackling footfalls come to a pause. Morgiana notices his sudden stop, the dire concentration warped within those sharp amber eyes that take in the glistening blade clasped between her fingers.

"That sword." He whispers in awe. Morgiana intakes a sharp breath, realizing her mistake. He knows. Their pause lasts for a long while until he asks, "Who are you?"

She didn't notice when her breathing had stopped. Morgiana inhales deeply, hoping that the pounding of her heart would die down to a steady drum. The confusion painted on his face transforms into anger. Unsatisfied aggression wafts off him, an imaginary miasma she senses from across the wide distance separating them. His grip tightens on the lance, he twirls the weapon about in a show of superb coordination. Morgiana doesn't shrink back, even as her senses cry out she will never win, as her right arm tingles with pain and crimson blood soaks her black clothing. He moves first, cutting through the air with a violent swing that Morgiana hastily avoids. His hand aims for her head but she deviates to the right. He tries again, his calloused fingers nearly flick her hood out of place. She turns on her left heel, betrayed by the sand below her feet as she stumbles to gain proper footing. Lashing out with her sword before falling down was a lifesaving choice on her part. She deflects the lance with the strength to knock her opponent to the side. She speedily climbs to her feet, swinging low at her attacker's belly. The tip of her sword cuts through cotton and flesh, a fresh wound that's not very deep but was more than enough to stall him.

Morgiana raises her sword and slices down with all the force she could muster.

The lance soars across the desert landscape, crashing to the sand behind them.

Large hands imprison a pair of tiny wrists.

Morgiana struggles in vain to unlock her limbs from the man's cold clasp. He squeezes Morgiana's wrists further. She yelps helplessly, dropping her sword in the process. He switches to a one-handed hold while the other grabs the fabric of her hood. She knees him in the belly, right in the tender spot where scarlet taints his shirt. A loud grumble leaves his lips as he convulses in pain. Another kick to his side is her key to unlocking the cage that once seized her aching wrists. Morgiana takes up her father's sword, distancing herself from those murderous, amber eyes once again.

"Tell me where." He breathes, wheezing while clutching his bleeding side, "Where did you get that sword?"

"Found it." She remarks dryly.

His amber eyes glisten with greed, staring after Morgiana's weapon, "Do you even know whose sword that is?" Must the world be so cruel as to bombard her with all these random reminders of the past, "Give it to me."

As if in response, her sword hums. A subtle tremor, but a tremor nonetheless. Its metal tip slightly upturns. Her focus drifts from the sword in her right hand to the man who hungrily lusts after it. She now notes the haze of dust that suddenly fills the atmosphere. Miniscule, black particles that slightly speckle her vision. The trembling sword attempts to slip from her hand but Morgiana doesn't allow it.

"Are you sure you want this cursed sword?" She asks gloomily.

"You _do_ know about it!" His anger rises even further, as does the dust particles in the air, causing her to blink them away, "That sword is a priceless heirloom to the Alexius royal family. It's worth a fortune!"

Morgiana scoffs, lifting the sword up as if to inspect it, "It looks worthless to me." To her surprise, it rises even further as if a force from above is…

Her eyes adjust to the darkness overhead, where shadows and moonlight flicker along with something else. Dilated rubies instantly dart down from the sky to her opponent.

"Then I'll buy it from you." He offers, lowering his guard. Is this sword really worth it? Regardless, this could be the opening she needs.

Morgiana shrugs, bidding her time, "Sure. I hope you can afford paying for it with a fortunes worth of gold." His features twist in disdain at her tall order, "What were you expecting. You just said my sword is worth a fortune."

"That sword doesn't belong to you!" He spat, annoyance evident in his sultry tone, "What am I saying. I can just take it from you."

If only he knew how false his previous statement is, "Alright then. If you want it," She stabs the sword into the sand at her feet, "Come get it."

Her invitation is graciously accepted. There's no end to this man's impressive capabilities. His speed is remarkable. The space between them shrinks to an arm's reach instantly. She wonders what his secret is, being that fast. Morgiana must, will surpass that speed one day. For now, she will leave that answer a mystery.

She smiles up at the darkness hovering over the camp, "You're always full of surprises."

"What's going on!" The amber eyed bandit floats in the air, spiraling about with no control over his movements when he's plastered to the desert floor by an unseen entity.

"I can't…hold him for long!" Aladdin declares from his perch above. His dark, coated palms, glow a ghastly green as he amplifies his odd ability.

The question of when he set this up will come later. Morgiana draws her sword from the sand, it too feels the manipulative effects of Aladdin's strange ability. Near the firelight, with an inch separating them, she's sure the man can make out the lower half of her smooth face as she squats down to his lowered level. Maybe even the radiance of her dark ruby eyes can be seen, regarding his golden gaze with a loathing so frigid it could freeze the crackling blaze thriving a mere three feet away from them, "If you want it so badly, here." Morgiana felt the added bite of Aladdin's manipulative force assisting her hand as the hammer brutally hits the nail on target. Her brother's hostile feelings towards these uncivilized felons were reflected in their combined assault as Morgiana slams the lion crafted pommel against his vulnerable head.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi Hi! ^_^**

 **I know I'm late by an entire month but here it is. This took me a bit of time to work out since I initially planned to put more stuff into this chapter but it already has so many words that all the other stuff will have to come later. Luckily I can post the next one on time since I've already started on it. Thanks so much for all the love! Faves, follows, reviews, I appreciate them so much. I loves me some feedback (of the constructive kind) so feel free to tell me what you think by PM or review, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

 **To _Guest:_ What's Magi without Alibaba? He'll be making his appearance very soon :D As to who Morgiana's opponent was last chapter, all will be revealed soon...like, in this chapter soon.**

 **Without further delay, the next chapter of _The Red Lioness_ awaits.**

* * *

He was unconscious, but breathing. Thank goodness. She dislikes him but Morgiana couldn't entertain the thought of…killing someone, no matter how evil they are.

"You did it, Mor!" She looks up. Aladdin descends the snoozing plant serpent, neglecting the prickly spines puncturing his exposed arms. He safely lands on the gritty ground, rushing over to her. Smothered within her best friend's hug, Morgiana winced, her bruised shoulder throbbing. Aladdin fails in noticing her discomfort, "I'm so glad you're safe." His arms securely fasten around her exhausted body.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Morgiana can relax. Easing into Aladdin's embrace came naturally.

"What are you talking about?" Morgiana says into his cloak, "It was a combined effort on both our parts, not just me." If not for Aladdin's herbal tranquilizer and that odd floatation field…Morgiana draws back, her gaze captures the pair of glowing sapphires staring down at her, "How did you make him float in the air? I've never seen you do something like that before."

Aladdin's boastful smirk could not be missed in the darkness. His head descends to the crook of her hood covered neck, "I'm a man of many talents."

Ruby eyes roll, Morgiana releases a lighthearted scoff, "Alright then, mister man." She grabs Aladdin's left hand. A glossy, black smear clings to his palm like a second skin. A warm, white glow suddenly encapsulates Aladdin's hand, spurring the red head to let go. The dark muck peels itself off both palms, melding together into a dark ball. Black dust particles arise from the earth, a dark cloud drawn towards the ebony mass within Aladdin's control. His hands lose their white hue and the completed ball drops into his cupped palms. It dematerializes into the shadows.

"Let's just call it magic." He ends their conversation as his sights drift to the injured travelers. The hysterical mother has swallowed her daughter in a tight hold, rocking them back and forth. Meanwhile, the men of their small party have yet to recover.

This is how people live. Afraid. Fighting for their survival in a world of discrimination, a world where nothing is fair. A disgusting world that's existed for years on end while Morgiana reveled in her blind ignorance, isolated by pristine walls that expertly concealed the turmoil and dread now festering this wicked world.

"Be right back." Morgiana's crutch abandons her as Aladdin rushes to aid the wounded, fresh gauze and antiseptic in hand.

She observes the simple exchange, how her brother effortlessly offers his assistance. They don't pose a threat to him, not in their sorry state anyway. Forgive her imaginations for thinking ill of these war-torn travelers, how they might unexpectedly flip the tables on them. She sighed. Slouching with a slight limp, Morgiana hobbles into the darkness.

Dragging out a pair of unconscious bodies, Morgiana keeps herself busy. Knowing Aladdin, he'll scold her for performing this task when she should be unwinding. Her ruby eyes cast another glance towards her best friend. Aladdin smiles warmly at his first patient, they sit on a flat ledge protruding out of the group's wooden transport unit.

A caravan.

Skillfully crafted timber vessels, paving the way for more efficient, long distance travel. A step above the nominal, horse-drawn carriage now dwindling into extinction and one of _Lightning's_ many astounding achievements. However, possessing one is far from cheap.

A venomous hiss shatters Morgiana's thoughts. Aladdin's patient wheezes while his inexperienced medic applies a creamy salve onto broken flesh. Aladdin carefully binds the man's arm with clean bandages, "Sorry. It stings a little. I should have warned you." A 'little' being an understatement. Morgiana's had a few run-ins with Yunan's mysterious balms and remedies in the past. Trust her, that salve is a far cry from a loving caress.

Morgiana returns to her chore. Haphazard lines trail the sand, leading to a grand treasure trove of trash…or the five unconscious men if you would prefer. Garbage, the lot of them, but even so a treasure trove to behold. Morgiana helps herself to their vulnerable pockets, salvaging for coin and anything else she can keep. Coppers, blunt dagger…old parchment, cigar…two silvers, more parchment, a writing plume…a plump pouch of shimmering gold coins. Morgiana draws back. Not that the amount of gold has left her in awe. Far from it. This meager gem can't compare to the Fanalis royal coffers…that is, if her family fortune still exists. Morgiana's sights drift down to the coin pouch's former owner.

Amber eyes.

Morgiana rolls the sack around in her palm. He could have stolen it, considering the man's greedy expressions earlier. His acquaintances carry nothing but coppers and lint but here he is, carrying a sack of gold. She continues her search of his person, finding a folded piece of parchment.

 _Drakon._

Written in an elegant script, far surpassing Morgiana's crude penmanship skills, was the single word. A name, his no doubt. Unless he wrote the note for someone else. Nevertheless, Drakon. Face, features, now a name. She commits it all to memory. He was a worthy adversary, proof that Morgiana has much to learn in the wiles of combat. She tucks the unread parchment back in place.

Growing murmurs touch Morgiana's ears. Within their jovial tenor, she pinpoints Aladdin's joyful jests. He confidently converses with the older men gathered round him while attending to his second case of bloody wounds. Hesitance froze Morgiana to the spot. She shouldn't intrude. Instead, she finds a sandy haven of rest at the base of a plant creature near the bandits. Morgiana's eyelids flutter but she quickly shakes off the growing sensation of slumber. Not now. Aladdin's still vulnerable, no time for sleep.

Time trickles on. She'd long tuned out the lazy laughter and voices tangled within the howling winds that callously slap the fabric of Morgiana's hood to her warm cheeks.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Morgiana lifts her bobbing head as a high-pitched chorus rattles her snoozing senses. She zooms in on a rather…comical sight. It's not often Morgiana takes pleasure in Aladdin's misfortunes. She couldn't help her muted laughter as a maelstrom of kisses rain down on the boy's cheeks. Try as he may, his struggles to break free from the passionate ambush were futile, "From the depths of my heart, thank you!" The woman cries between pecking Aladdin's disconcerted face. He's even grown pale. Morgiana would too if their roles were reversed. Tis the cost of friendliness.

She stands, dusting specks of sand off her cloak. One final smooch imprints itself on Aladdin's right cheek, nearly colliding with his lips. Aladdin stumbles backwards, his grey hat soaring off his head. Residual rouge paints his features an angry shade of red, as if he were blushing. Unless, in actuality, that is the case.

Her approach is noticed by the entire group whose heads swerve in Morgiana's direction. She instinctively draws her hood closer under their wide, curious gazes. Morgiana's footfalls pause when a single man approaches, pleading that her features are indecipherable. Morgiana flinches when he steals her right hand, yet the honesty reflected in his eyes stills her retreat, "Thank you very much…miss," Uncertainty and confusion cross his wrinkled visage, "We are eternally grateful to you."

Morgiana shakes her head lightly, reclaiming her hand as she speaks in a lower timbre, "It was nothing."

Disapproval manifests in his voice, "You consider our lives worthless?" His biting remark leaves Morgiana stunned. She would never… "We may live to see another sunrise because of you and your companion here." The man gestures to Aladdin, plucking his hat out of the sand while scraping dark crimson off his cheeks with a white handkerchief…with a red handkerchief, "We can never afford to repay you for saving us!"

"That's right!" Morgiana is consumed by a pair of arms, her muscles twitch involuntarily, "Thank you so much dear. If we had never crossed paths…oh, you've delayed death's untimely visit this night!"

"I…" Morgiana was at a loss for words, "Glad…you are all safe." The older woman lets go and Morgiana lowers her head, annoyed by those wandering eyes seeking what's concealed beneath the scarlet veil.

While the woman's conspicuous gaze roams over her aloof savior, she kindly smiles. Her younger replica steps forward, reverence on full display as the brunette bows, "Thank you very much!"

There must be a limit to how thankful one can be and these people have clearly surpassed that mark.

The girl stands upright, "Sahsa, can you brew us all some tea?" She meet's her mother's stare, enthusiastically nodding as she goes off to find a tea kettle.

An unexpected roadblock meets the girl, Sahsa, on her way back from the caravan. Aladdin strides towards her and Sahsa stops before the obstruction in her path, bewilderment crosses her flawless features. Aladdin's hands cover the smaller ones gripping either side of the kettle. He flashes a gentlemanly smile, one that captivates Sahsa into stillness. Is her jaw seriously dangling like a dying fish? "May I?"

"Uh…" Displeasure flicks over Morgiana's visage for a split second, "Um…o-okay." Sahsa forfeits the kettle.

"Thank you!" Aladdin whisks the tea kettle away.

Morgiana is glad that someone else shares her disapproval. Sahsa's mother shakes her head, "Sahsa, I told you to take care of the tea, not our guests!"

"No worries, madam. Brewing tea is actually one of my specialties." Aladdin lacks his usual self-righteous banter but his gentlemanly smile remains intact.

"Oh…but really-"

It was her turn to be dumbfounded by Aladdin's effective charm, "Please. I insist. Also, my sister is very particular about how her tea is brewed." Since when? "She's hypersensitive to certain herbs."

The older lady's eyes widen in apology, "I had no idea." They just met, there's no way she would have known that, whether it be true or not, "If you insist then."

"Let me show you our selection of herbs." Sahsa offers.

"Yes please!" Aladdin jumps at this golden opportunity, following the brunette towards the caravan.

"Are you boiling the water separately or do you boil your water with the leaves?" Sahsa inquires and they disappear from view.

The sudden realization dawns on Morgiana when Sahsa's mother takes a step towards the red head. Concern creases the older woman's features as she studies Morgiana's bruised shoulder, "You're hurt." Why did Aladdin leave her alone with them! "And your cloak is torn. I can stitch it up for you." Morgiana distances herself from the woman, shielding her tender injury with a hand as she backs away.

Even if her cloak and shoulder are damaged, keeping her identity concealed is much more important, "Thank you, but no thank you."

"There is no reason to be afraid, dear." The woman's remark holds a soothing undertone. Her gentle words are laced with a kind sincerity, such that Morgiana's walls might soon crumble. She shook her head. No.

Morgiana securely holds her hood in places as a violent wind sweeps across the desert. It threatens the flickering flames that dangerously sway alongside the furious gale, "I can take care of myself." Morgiana strides away from the group to a darker area of the camp, her red cloak floats animatedly with the passing breeze. Being rude was never the intention but what else could she do? Morgiana's nerves tingle with anxiety.

Nestled in shadows, she sits in the sand with propped up knees, laying her drowsy head atop folded arms.

"Mor?" A familiar voice whispers, forcing her eyes open. Aladdin's outstretched hand passes her a steaming mug. That was quick, or did she fall asleep?

The red head accepts the mug. Warmth instantly seeps into her cold fingers, "Thank you."

Aladdin grins alarmingly wide, falling back as he takes a dust raising seat beside her. Morgiana covers her simmering tea with an unoccupied hand, disgruntled by the wave of sand that washes over her body. It's a miracle his cup hadn't spilled over while Aladdin sat down, "So what's up, Mor?"

"What do you mean?" Morgiana raises the white mug to her lower lip, blowing steam away before taking a timid sip.

"You ran away from them." Aladdin's words make Morgiana pause, the heat from her mug swiftly transfers into her lip. She pulls it away.

"I never ran away." She simply found a comfortable place to sit down that's secluded from everyone else.

Aladdin holds a wry smile, she could feel his stare through her cloak, "I know you're antisocial but-"

"I will admit that I lack in many aspects, but social etiquette does not qualify as such." What is he talking about? Morgiana is brimming with extroverted tendencies...she just doesn't show them very often. A scoff escapes her. Aladdin must be delusional from sleep deprivation.

A lazy smirk ripples across Aladdin's lips, "Oh really?" His head nods to the small group huddled near the fire, "Well why don't we go sit over there instead? It's much warmer than here and you can prove just how talented you are at social interactions."

"No, thank you. I am plenty warm in my cloak and with this tea." She says, taking another sip.

"How is it? The tea." His sapphire eyes twinkle in expectation, "It's a new blend I created."

Morgiana swallows a small gulp, "As refreshing as always. There's a hint of thyme." She smiles to herself, reminded of her caregiver and Aladdin's master, "Lemongrass…peppermint…and something else."

"Right on the nose, Mor. I don't know how you do it." Heightened senses come with many perks. Morgiana's familiarized herself with the multitude of herbs Yunan stows away in his kitchen cupboards for many a use. Energizers, repellants, painkillers, sedatives, the uses and effects of plant life are astonishing. She perceives Aladdin's eyes, how they roam over her fatigued figure. He leans back slightly, narrowed sapphire's settle on her tattered shoulder, "Does it hurt?"

Morgiana need not follow his gaze, "Not really, but it will get infected if left unattended. Would you mind?"

"You're really asking me that?" Aladdin looked appalled but his sarcasm was obvious, "You need to take off your cloak first. Can you hold out till we leave them?"

"Why not leave now?" Morgiana downs a blistering gulp of tea, a coughing fit erupts from her fuming throat, "They…will be fine." She is fairly certain there's no one else within close range of the camp so their group should be out of harm's way.

Aladdin gingerly drinks his tea in satisfaction while Morgiana stares down into the remnants settled at the bottom of her ceramic mug. They will head back from whence they came, navigate this forsaken cesspool of a desert, and be on their way to the Fire Kingdom's capital. This Territory has yet to showcase any redemptive qualities. Sand, sentient plant life, underhanded crooks, sand, sweltering heat, the blasted sand!

Whoever she's supposed to find in this Kingdom better be worth it.

* * *

"We'll be leaving now." Listening in a few feet away, Morgiana wiggles sand off her sore feet. Aladdin politely bids farewell, much to the disbelief of the masses surrounding him.

"Are you sure?" The eldest man queries, apprehension doubles his impressive collection of wrinkles, "It's unsafe to be wandering the desert at night."

Where was that advice when _they_ set off on their own travels into said desert?

Aladdin vainly attempts to quell their worries, "My sister can take on anyone, we'll be fine." He confidently boasts, casting a glance her way.

Uncertainty solidifies the elder's stance, "Not that we doubt you, but-"

"Where are you going anyway? We can give you a lift!" Sahsa's clear outburst slits her companion's words into silence. That mighty bravado is short lived, however, as she recoils into shyness. Her high-pitched voice decrescendos, "I-If you want."

Aladdin scratches the back of his head meekly, "Sorry but we must decline."

Sahsa's mother reiterates her daughter's generous sentiments, "There is no need to be humble." Humble? What is she talking about? Morgiana found travailing on foot through this horrendous desert much more appealing than travelling with a foreign group of individuals. Aladdin knows Morgiana too well, she's glad they're on the same wavelength, "We would be more than happy to drop you off to your destination. Is it close by?"

"Well, we were just on our way to the Fire Kingdom's capital." She'll throttle him! "We'll be alright. It's not too far from here, is it?"

Willpower is Morgiana's only restraint. Her inner screams are unfit for delicate ears, unsightly for a former noble such as herself. On the outside, she channels that fury through the sharp glare incising holes into the back of Aladdin's head.

Unlike the malice coursing through the red head that very second, every other face lights up with elation. Sahsa captures Aladdin's hands, jumping two inches off the ground in merriment while the boy looked on, bewildered by the unexpected glee coursing through the camp, "We're heading to the capital also! What an odd twist of fate!" Yes fate, how odd indeed.

"Really?" Aladdin shares in the girl's gaiety, "That's great!"

Why in his right mind would Aladdin tell them? So much for their twin telepathy.

Lest his tongue decides to loosen again, Morgiana takes action. He's not making any decisions without her consent. In the blink of an eye she's at his back, a small hand takes his shoulder. Poised on the tips of her toes, Morgiana murmurs into Aladdin's ear, "No."

She would rather not trail the coattails of fate.

"Excuse us." Aladdin says to the group, taking Morgiana by the shoulders. She follows his lead to the farthest reaches of the camp where they could not be heard. Folded arms, an unhappy façade, Aladdin has his work cut out for him. A deep frown compliments his deflated tone, "Come on Mor, this is perfect. It'll save us plenty of time, food and energy. There's safety in numbers too, and they seem well versed in crossing this desert."

She begs to differ on the 'safety in numbers' bit. Aladdin and Morgiana are more than capable when it boils down to defending themselves from any oncoming threats. Them…not so much. However, their knowledge of the desert would be a valuable asset...

"Pwetty Pwease?" His eyes widen unnaturally, a gaze so pure, so enchanting. Even his pouted lower lip quivers!

Morgiana breaks through the compulsion, turning away from that adora- annoying face.

A long sigh escapes her. Fate _might_ be delaying death's visit yet again…

"Fine. Do as you will." She grumbles.

Aladdin tugs Morgiana into a solid embrace, of the spine shattering variety, before twisting on his heels in a mad rush towards the awaiting travelers, "We have decided to take you up on your offer. Thank you for your hospitality." He bows to the group.

Begrudgingly, Morgiana joins his side. She imitates Aladdin's modest movement, a touch of appreciation weaving its way into her soft voice, "With gratitude." Morgiana hopes they don't regret this decision.

"Yay!" Sahsa's hands clasp together in sweet delight, "This will be so fun!" An odd sensation sweeps over Morgiana. A strange…feeling, "Please take care of us, Aladdin and um..." Brown eyes observe Morgiana with keen interest, "If I may ask, what is your name?" Morgiana shrinks back on reflex.

Cowering behind Aladdin's back never felt so demeaning, but what should she say? A fake identity has never come to mind until now, "Uh..."

"This is Mor, my older sister," Aladdin takes Morgiana's right hand, pulling her to his side. Sahsa gestures with a friendly wave of the hand, Morgiana's head tilts slightly in response, "She can be very shy. Forgive her lack of social etiquette." His sudden yelp startles Sahsa. Aladdin quickly laughs it off, swinging his and Morgiana's conjoined hands.

Sahsa faces Morgiana with the brightest of smiles, "Well Mor, it truly has been an honour to meet you." It was now Morgiana's turn to look perplexed, not that anyone witnessed her astonishment, "The way you took on those bandits was phenomenal!" She takes Morgiana's free hand. A tender warmth embraces the red head's palm, as does the relentless spasm surging through her muscles and nerves. Morgiana eases her hand out of Sahsa's soft fingertips, the brunette's frown isn't lost on her. How does accidentally being pitched across the desert sound? Morgiana separated them for both their sakes, "Where are you from?"

The three men of the group silently yet politely make their leave while Aladdin responds, "A small village along the border of _Strength_ and _Fire_. You might not spot it on a map. We're not very well known to the rest of the world."

Sahsa nods slowly, musing to herself, "We've never travelled to a village like that before. Maybe on our next journey we should pass through that area."

"We would be more than happy to accommodate you!" In the small village along the border of _Strength_ and _Fire_ that does not exist.

"Thank you, Aladdin. I look forward to it!" Uplifting the girl's expectations with such a falsified ruse leaves a poor impression on the red head, but no matter. Better this than revealing the truth. Chances are, they'll never crossing paths with these travelers again.

Morgiana notes Sahsa's troubled gaze before the brunette reveals her curious thoughts, "Mor, if you don't mind my asking, are you comfortable in your cloak? You must be terribly feverish under that thing."

"Sahsa!" The girl flinches. Frostbite gnaws at Morgiana's neck, and she's under a smolderingly warm coat, _and_ out of the line of fire. The potency of that cold glare is remarkable! A venomous voice accompanies the irate mother's abrasive scowl, fierce as the callous strike of a taskmaster's whip, "If Mor would like her identity to remain anonymous, we must respect that." One has to wonder how this woman arrived at such a tangent. She miserably fails to mask the expectation reflected in her own dark eyes. Morgiana is no fool, the girl is innocent.

"I-I simply asked if she was hot is all! I had no hidden agenda, mother." Sahsa defends weakly, head dipping in apology.

Morgiana felt sorry for the young girl, her inquiry seemed genuine enough. Sahsa's mother had no right to make such an unfounded accusation. Reminds Morgiana of a particular tutor long past who just loved insinuating ridiculous propaganda to get her way, and Myron's glower…

Bitter memories reseal themselves within Morgiana's heart.

She should remediate the situation somehow.

"It's not that Mor doesn't want to show you who she is," Aladdin cuts in, much faster than Morgiana could, "It's just that she's unable to." Both ladies tune their attention to Aladdin, his large hand rests atop Morgiana's concealed head, "In our village, ladies must keep their heads covered at all times. That is, until they are wed."

…

…what?

"Such customs exist?" Sahsa says in disbelief, "I had no idea." Neither did Morgiana.

"Apologies! How inconsiderate of us." Sahsa's mother shrieks, slapping both hands to her inflamed cheeks.

The red head was dumbstruck. Of all the tall tales, where does Aladdin get these fantasies!

"What do you mean, _us_?" Sahsa states, disappointed by her shamefaced mother's claims, "I had nothing to do with this."

The older woman soon gathered her bearings together, as did Morgiana. Aladdin's in for a little talk once they're away from prying ears but it seems as if those two took the bait. Their interest in her appearance should be sated with Aladdin's lie.

Ladies must veil their heads until marriage, how farfetched.

"I believe that our guests have been through quite a lot, Sahsa. We should let them rest now." Sahsa's mother takes her daughter by the shoulders. Drained eyes gaze upon the two companions, "Aladdin, Mor, we have provisions if you are hungry. Let me just prepare our room for you. Sahsa," The younger brunette looks up, into her mother's serious gaze, "Remember your manners. I want you to behave yourself. No harassing our guests. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mother." Sahsa grumbles dejectedly.

Sahsa's mother _must_ be one of the Gifted! That would explain the freezing cold prickling Morgiana's spine. Did _The Book of Magi_ ever reference an Essence of Ice? "Watch that tone of yours and act like a proper young lady." For some reason, Morgiana's dislike for Sahsa's mother matured significantly over the course of one sentence.

The haughty woman's hold withdraws from Sahsa's shoulders, "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'll be right back." The woman leaves, her dark skirts fluttering on the midnight breeze before she disappears within their mysterious caravan.

Sahsa sighs miserably, Morgiana can relate to her apparent agitation. Picking up on the awkward air surrounding them, Aladdin lays a comforting hand on Sahsa's sagging shoulder, "Don't beat yourself up, Sahsa. I'm sure your mother means well." Wrong choice of words.

"She is always like that. It matters not." Obvious response.

Sahsa clams up with folded arms, turning away from Aladdin and Morgiana. No use pestering the girl, its best to let her breathe for a minute or two. Unfortunately, Aladdin fails to read between the lines of Sahsa's despondence, irritating the brunette with vain words meant to console her crushed spirits but instead garner the opposite effect.

Morgiana subtly leans on her left hip, attention whisked away by the actions of Sahsa's acquaintances a few feet behind them. Patients should be on bedrest and hauling five grown men while injured is by no means a therapeutic treatment.

Bound by durable bands at the waist, the five assailants are clumsily dragged towards the caravan's rear. Why bother with those uncouth swine? First light will break through the horizon soon enough and the desert's virtuous judgement for their unforgivable misdeeds would be delivered. Could it be starvation, dehydration? Tossed about by a ferocious sandstorm? _Or_ _Swallowed whole by the inescapable maw of a plant beast!_

"Please, have a seat. Let me get you something to eat." Morgiana snaps out of an unprecedented daze.

Pain erupts within her pounding skull. Morgiana's never blacked out like that before.

"That rhymed!" Aladdin's avid fascination over Sahsa's verbal prose splits Morgiana's brain further.

A small smile replaces Sahsa's melancholy, her slender frame quivers with mirth, "It wasn't intentional. Is buttered bread alright?"

"That would be a delight!" Morgiana messages her aching head, Aladdin and Sahsa giggling with each other. The brunette disappears inside the open door of the caravan, wooden stairs squeak loudly under Sahsa's spirited steps.

Morgiana folds her arms, encasing her body within a snug red shell, "Please tell me you won't be doing that all night."

"Who knows, I just might." Aladdin bumps shoulders with Morgiana, sparking a dull pain through her upper back that subsides just as quickly as it appeared.

"Why do I put up with you?" She says, yet a tiny spot in her heart thinks otherwise.

Deep down, his childish deeds are a little endearing. By a very small fraction, "Love you too."

"And stop with the rhyming." Her head will explode at this rate.

Sadly, her pleas fall on deaf ears, "Can't deal with my impeccable timing?"

She meets his intrigued stare. A tawny hue replaces those all too familiar sapphires she's come to admire. Morgiana's lower lip curves, a ghost of a smile, "Are you sure about that?"

"Where's your head at?" Aladdin states smugly, "Can't you tell you're on the losing end of our little spat?"

"Wolf." And that is how you play the game. Her overconfident smirk is visible for a mere second before Morgiana turns away from Aladdin, a loss for words petrifies him. That's a first.

"That's cheating, Mor!" He accuses as Sahsa returns with a small tray in hand. Clusters of hot bread decorate the ornate plate. The enticing sight inflicts a low rumble at the base of Morgiana's stomach.

"Help yourselves." Sahsa insists, settling the tray between the two after stealing a loaf of her own.

"Thank you." The pair say in unison as they each grab a loaf, wisps of white wafting off the freshly baked bread.

The brunette sits at the opposite end of the fire, taking a small bite out of the buttery delight. Once she deems it safe to eat, Morgiana sinks her teeth into the loaf, ripping off a small piece unlike her ravenous companion whose loaf has already disappeared. Aladdin grabs another, having the decency to swallow before speaking, "This is delicious, Sahsa!"

"Thank my mother, she is the one who baked it." The brunette says, halfway through her own loaf of bread.

"It's wonderful. Thank you very much," Aladdin takes another large chunk of bread, "So there's a kitchen and everything in there?" He gestures to the caravan.

Sahsa nods, dusting her empty hand of any crumbs, "That's right."

"It looks so fancy." Compared to some of the models Morgiana has seen, theirs is nothing special. Although, who is Morgiana to judge. Every caravan holds its secrets…or so they say.

Sahsa waves him off, "Your praise is too much Aladdin, it really isn't all that. Ours is the usual standard for merchant caravans. There are several designs out there, even a travelling circus!" She cries in amazement.

"What's a circus?" Aladdin tilts his head to the right, Sahsa's wonderment infectious.

The brunette folds her arms in thought, "Well…at the circus, there's all sorts of entertainment and food. It's all thrills and fun!"

"I like thrills and fun!" Aladdin turns to Morgiana, "Mor, we should definitely go!"

"No, thank you." She responds lowly, killing Aladdin's joy instantly.

Jesters and acrobats in gaudy outfits, painted faces, unending smiles. Morgiana recalls from long ago, the host of entertainment troupes who would request an audience with the Fanalis royal family. Laughter and cheer bled through the palace walls while the princess remained inexplicably absent, locked up in her rooms until their performances were over. Something about the circus is just plain unsettling.

"Why not?" Aladdin's frown hits the floor, tugging at Morgiana's heartstrings. He really knows how to play dirty. If all men were born with such lovable features as Aladdin…it terrifies her to ponder the thought.

Sahsa saves the red head before she caves in, "For one, tickets to the Cirque du Nisshoku can cost you an arm and a leg unless you know a good dealer."

"Exactly." Morgiana thanks the brunette, any inclinations to visit the circus now nipped in the bud.

"Besides, finding the circus is a wild goose chase. Their destinations aren't announced to the populace beforehand and there's no habitual pattern to their stops. The fairgrounds tend to appear without prior notice then disappear before dusk, as if it were never there. Some say, if you don't leave before closing time…you're never seen again." Sahsa whispers, visage grim.

Never seen again, that's ridiculous. Who would believe such a farce? "A-are you sure?" Aladdin draws closer to Morgiana while she hugs her cloak even tighter, "Maybe they left earlier than everyone else."

Sahsa looks into the diminishing fire, "Maybe."

"So…you were saying, that's a merchant's caravan?" Aladdin takes the conversation elsewhere, much to Morgiana's relief.

"Yes. My family travels across Magi as merchants, selling the best wares you can find on the market!" Sahsa sits upright, her tone taking on the pitch of a master saleswoman.

"That sounds promising. Mor and I would love to patronize." Aladdin says. Stocking up on supplies would be wise.

Sahsa claps cheerfully, practically beaming at the pair, "Surely we can give you a good discount, even a free gift. Although, it will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Not a problem," Aladdin nods in understanding, "So where are you from?"

"Oh, we're residents of _Lightning_." She explains with a half-smile.

Aladdin probes further, "What's it like over there?"

"Cold." Her response was lightning fast…as if the answer had been on her tongue for quite some time, "The snowfall is terrible around this time."

"Mor and I have never seen snow." Aladdin muses out loud.

Sahsa shakes her head with a frown, "You do not want to see snow. Trust me."

"Besides being cold, what else?" The blue haired alchemist asks, "I hear _Lightning_ is the most developed Territory. Tall buildings that can brush the clouds, not to mention the powerplant and all the latest machinery." His eyes glisten with the fervent zeal of a scholar.

"Aladdin. It really isn't as glamorous as some would think. Not just the temperature is frigid, its citizens are as well." Wrapped within her own arms, Sahsa's slight tremble makes her claims all the more believable. Morgiana dreads her encounter in that land of floating frost…if they even make it that far. A denizen from _Lightning_ sits a stone's throw away. Would this girl qualify as a potential ally? "It's one of the reasons why we travel. All for a better life, and our income isn't bad either."

A blast of wind roars, Aladdin plasters his hat atop his head, "It must be nice to travel all around Magi like you do. Meet new people, see new places." Isn't that the same as what they're doing now?

Sahsa dusts sand off her plain brown tunic, "It's…nice, yes."

"Your enthusiasm lacks conviction." Aladdin points out, Sahsa's smile holds a bitter aftertaste.

"It really is wonderful! It's just…we travel all over and never stay in one location for very long so I don't interact with many people my age. It can get a little lonely. B-but I love my family! No one can ever replace them. I would just like to have someone I can call a friend, you know?" The brunette hugs her small figure, downcast stare drifting to dusty sandals.

Once upon a time, Morgiana could relate. Never would a day pass by where she wished for a companion, a confidant she could tell her secrets too…if she had any. Inside the palace was her family, guards, servants and such like, yet their darling little princess could never escape the snare of loneliness. Coupled with her brother's premature passing, the bonds of solitude grew even greater. An inkling of sympathy touches Morgiana's heart. She now has Aladdin, a friend and a brother. Sahsa has no one.

"I'll be your friend." Sahsa looks up, wide eyed.

With her dark gaze transfixed on Aladdin, she dissects the motives behind the boy's sudden vow. Depression slowly morphs into uncontainable exuberance, "Y-you will?!"

"Of course!" Aladdin assures, sealing his promise with a wholehearted smile.

Sahsa shoots onto her feet, rushing towards the boy with a jolly squeal that makes Morgiana flinch. Tackled by the overjoyed brunette, Aladdin falls back and Sahsa follows. Spiraling on the ground in a mangled whirlwind of sand, the pair couldn't help but laugh. Nothing says friendship like rolling around in the dirt. Two pairs of eager eyes search Morgiana as if attempting to compel her into joining their tussle in the soil. She turns away.

"Up you go." Morgiana observes when Aladdin assists Sahsa off the ground, how their clasped hands remain locked much longer than necessary, "You've got a little something…" Aladdin gently swipes sand off Sahsa's right cheek, out of her lengthy umber hair. Neither tan skin nor the absence of potent light could hide the fluster painted on Sahsa's sheepish features, "There you go."

"Uh…thank you, Aladdin." The nervous girl distances their close proximity, opting to turn her sights elsewhere. Alas, those apprehensive eyes meet Morgiana's upward gaze. Sahsa jerks backwards with a violent jolt, gasping before she falls on her back, barely missing the fire close behind her.

"Sahsa!" Aladdin rushes to her, giving Sahsa a hand before the languid flames near her head decide to give the girl a searing taste, "Are you alright?"

A small shudder creeps through the brunette's nerves. Wild, confused eyes take a moment to register Aladdin's presence, "I…I am fine. Thank you."

"What happened?" He asks, his tone soothing.

Sand descends from Sahsa's hair with every shake of her head, "Uh…nothing. I…must be tired and happened to slip is all." She concludes.

The girl is sharp. Natural instinct was the root of her sudden recoil. That same instinct being the source of her silence. Was Morgiana's stare that terrifying? Or was it the fact that her seething eyes reflect a ruby afterglow? Neither matter once she considers the repercussions of her unwise actions. Keeping tabs on her emotions is one of Morgiana's specialties, yet she could refute her simmering irritations no longer. Why was she annoyed in the first place?

"Aladdin, Mor." Sahsa's mother called from the caravan's doorway, Morgiana missing the latter portion of the woman's announcement as her head drowns under negative thought.

What if Sahsa figures it out, that the girl under the hood is actually of royal blood…tainted royal blood. She only witnessed the eyes, not Morgiana's hair. There are plenty of humans born with red eyes who aren't Fanalis, the girl will never know…but…

"Mor?" A shake of her shoulders pulls Morgiana back to reality. She meets the questioning look on Aladdin's face as he kneels before her still form. A playful smile stretches across his features, "Lets get you to bed, you look like something out of Belladonna's Abyss."

Sahsa releases a horrified gasp, "Aladdin, that's such an awful thing to say!"

His grin becomes cheeky, "Mor knows I'm kidding. Right, sis?" Morgiana stands, ignoring Aladdin's helping hand. She proceeds to the caravan without a word, "Mor?" Her best friend runs to her side, "I was joking, don't be mad."

"Why would I be upset when you so eloquently compared my likeness to the hideous creatures of the underrealm?" Truth be told, she was nowhere near furious. Just tired. Yearning for a comfortable bed and a few peaceful hours amidst the vivid dreamscape of her drained mind.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Aladdin grabs Morgiana by her left arm, cooing a steady stream of apologies when it really wasn't necessary. As unfazed by his shrewd sense of humour as she was, Morgiana refuses to let his insulting actions slide.

Sahsa's voice hardly registered in Morgiana's ears, "Aladdin, I think you should just give Mor some space. She seems tired and you badgering her like that is probably making things worse." Finally, someone who gets it. Morgiana can definitely get along with Sahsa…if they were acquainted that is.

They arrived at the caravan's narrow entrance, the faint scent of mothballs and spice brushing her nose. A bright pink carpet that covers the entire floor welcomes them inside, along with their tiny living quarters. A small table sits at one corner, a pair of cedar chairs at another. Ornaments cling to the walls and ceiling, filling up the emptiness of the room. Morgiana spots a kitchen built for one a few paces away, its door design piquing the red head's interest…but Morgiana's tunnel vision averts her mind from dissecting the oddity. Not much else exists inside the caravan. She would inquire about their wares but, tunnel vision.

"Sahsa, take them to the room. I'll be right back." The older lady instructs her daughter before running off to the small kitchen, concealing herself within the claustrophobic room. The door blends into the wall without a trace…tunnel vision.

"I'll show you to your room." Sahsa takes over, guiding Aladdin and Morgiana to the wall on their right. Her hand runs against the smooth plywood, pausing, then easily pushes on the wood which flips sideways, revealing a small powder room, "In case you need to relieve yourself, this is the washroom."

The thought of a shower breaks through Morgiana's current fixation. Sadly, the neat little room lacks a bath. Tunnel vision returns.

"Woah!" Aladdin says, placing his hand on the door, he closes off the room.

"Quite the mystery, isn't it," Sahsa says, gliding down the wall to the very end where she pushes open the spinning door, "and over here is your room."

She enters first, Morgiana and Aladdin trail after the brunette. A dated oil lamp attached to the wall furthest from the door illuminates the room. Morgiana controls the urge to simply fall onto the mattress at her feet while Sahsa was present.

"So, how do you all shower?" Aladdin asks as his eyes roam around the barren space. Tunnel vision disperses.

Sahsa walks over to the oil lamp, noting the level of kerosene within, "Once we take a rest stop in each town, or natural water sources like rivers or waterfalls, but if the journey will be long and we're not expecting to cross paths with any streams, we take sponge baths." Morgiana inwardly shudders. "At least it's better than not showering at all."

Aladdin settles his satchel on the bed, "Well Sahsa, thank you once again for hosting us. Apologies for the trouble."

"No trouble at all, Aladdin." Sahsa waves him off, "We're all glad you decided to stay. If there's one thing my family dislikes, it's being in debt. Anyway, I'll leave you two to settle in for the night."

"Okay. Have a good night." Aladdin says to the brunette's retreating back.

"Goodnight." With a final smile, Sahsa conceals the entrance way to their hidden room.

Morgiana collapses, her weight rocks the compressed springs beneath the soft mattress. She hears Aladdin's short bout of laughter. Fluttering eyelids darken Morgiana's vision, she breathes in the floral scent of detergent embedded in the white sheets under her heavy body.

"Don't fall asleep yet. I still have to treat your wounds." Morgiana's already grown accustomed to the throbbing pangs exploding across her beaten frame. Her eyes open, marking Aladdin's every move around their stuffy accommodations. Low lamplight assists with his search. He notes every crevice, any sign of a peep hole infringing on their privacy, failing to make any crucial discoveries. Although, that doesn't excuse the prospect of one's secret existence.

Unless another Fanalis were present, no prying ears should be able to decode their monotonous whisperings, "Nice, isn't she? Sahsa, I mean." Aladdin says, sitting at the bed's edge.

Morgiana grunts in reply. She's not in the mood for such a conversation. The sounds of Aladdin digging through his sack flood the room, "I need you to sit up." Morgiana follows and a sharp pain rips through her torn tendons. Her wince bounces off the walls surrounding them.

The cot sinks slightly as Aladdin crawls over to Morgiana, settling behind her arched back. A ghastly chill strokes Morgiana's sink while she sheds off Yunan's ruined cloak, frayed threads line the jagged slit thanks to that amber eyed man's agile attack. Morgiana folds her cloak neatly, dropping the lightweight bundle over her outstretched legs.

"Your shirt's torn also." Aladdin points out. Morgiana glances to her right shoulder, she carefully lowers her shirt's split sleeve.

Aladdin got to work, the choking scent of sanitation clogs the room. It doesn't take him long to finish his handiwork. The sting of activated chemicals under her skin causes Morgiana's low grimace.

"Mor," Aladdin's cool breath tickles her neck, forcing her receding eyelids open, "I want you to know that I'll be here with you. No matter what we're up against, we'll face it together," He slips away from Morgiana's back, taking a seat right in front of her, "You're not alone, and we won't be alone. There will be times when we'll meet other people. Master suggested you find allies, and if you let fear govern your opinion of others, by the end of this journey it will just be the two of us."

Morgiana's sleepy features twist into confusion, "I'm not afraid of-"

"Let me finish, Mor." Aladdin's tone is gentle yet firm. Blue eyes defiantly stare into surprised ruby ones. She allows him to continue, "I'm not disregarding the struggles you've been through. I understand why you're hesitant, all too well. Losing those you love, building up walls to guard your heart from those depressing feelings, it's natural, Mor. Still," He parts a lock of hair away from her vision, leaning forward, his forehead rests on Morgiana's brow, "You need to let people in. Sure, the world is filled with wicked people, but there are good ones too."

Morgiana silently ponders her best friend's words. This world is both blessed and cursed with those who are upright, as well as the deviously despicable. Discerning a person's true intent, that is where the problem lies, "I…don't think they are bad people, if that is what you're asserting to."

"Then try to be nice to Sahsa. I'm one hundred percent sure that you two can become great friends." Aladdin says in full assurance.

Arms folded, Morgiana's trembling fingers tightly grip her aching forearms. Her eyes sting for unknown reasons, "Right, and she finds out who I am. Then what?" Shallow pools unintentionally form. She shuts the impending floodgates, desperate to overflow, "Fanalis can't just walk the streets like normal people, Aladdin. They're taken…enslaved, tortured and…murdered. And you…you just expect me to open up to strangers that won't think twice before threatening to end my life?"

The touch of Aladdin's forehead disappears, replaced by the tender arms that wrap around her. Aladdin's cotton shirt absorbs Morgiana's fallen tears. Slow, comforting circles roam across her back, attempting the soothe her muffled cries. Morgiana grips the folds of Aladdin's soaked shirt, refusing to let go, to let him see her in this weakened state, to see her as the pathetic disgrace she is!

Gravity, with Aladdin's assistance, draws Morgiana down to the mattress. Wordless comfort eases the red head's tumultuous emotions. Erased was any distance separating her from Aladdin as her tears fail to stop. Time seems to have stopped for the pair, as a brother softly strokes his crying sister by the hair and a sister sobs quietly into her brother's chest. She couldn't let go, he didn't mind.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 _the priNcess Is foUnd,_

 _sinbAd does not need to kNow_

 _tiMe to hAve some fun_

)*~*(

Tremors rumble, ravaging the once undisturbed haze of sleep that delightfully caressed her weary bones. Morgiana's swollen eyes open.

A room…caravan…

Fire Kingdom.

Aladdin…

Her head tilts left, igniting a dull pain through her damaged shoulder. Morgiana winces softly. She locates Aladdin's sleeping figure an arm's reach away. Deep breaths, parted lips, a smooth brow and relaxed frame sunken into the worn mattress beneath him. The epitome of tranquility. Morgiana weakly smiles to herself, Aladdin deserves some rest after all he's been through. The pleasant warmth encapsulating her stiff fingers disappears as Morgiana cautiously releases his rumpled dark robes. She must have held onto Aladdin the entire night…

Morgiana fends off a blush with little success, the rush of pink has surely taken over her face.

She even bawled, into his chest no less!

Have her emotions no shame!

Aladdin rolls onto his side, startling Morgiana as they face each other. To her racing heart's sweet relief, he's still asleep. Soft, nonsensical mumbles drift out of his open mouth. Morgiana schools her outward hysteria, dousing the flames under her puffy cheeks.

Much has changed since Morgiana first encountered Aladdin. Yes, he's matured – to a certain extent – intellectually, in character, in build. That twelve year old, jovial kid she crossed paths with in the Quercus Woodlands is now this fifteen year old…jovial kid. Subtle hints of that baby face before it's metamorphosis into a more chiseled visage still remain. His scrawny frame steadily transitions into a broader build each day. Then there's his height…

R-regardless, Aladdin's pure hearted persona is no different from the day they met. In his eyes, Morgiana will always be his darling older sister. His confidant, best friend, victim of playful teasing's.

Unlike Aladdin's one-track thoughts on Morgiana, her opinions of Aladdin have transformed over the years. He was once that confidant, that best friend, that victim of unintended beatings. He still is. Their dynamic has simply…evolved for the red head. It's difficult, finding the right words to describe it.

Reaching forward, Morgiana captures a short wisp of cobalt on Aladdin's pillow, twisting the curl around her index finger. He needs a haircut. Morgiana's halfhearted smile remains, she releases Aladdin's hair. If his presence were to disappear, Morgiana would certainly be lost. Last night proved as much. Sadness pricks her heart at the thought of Aladdin's absence.

From temple to chin, Morgiana's eyes roam his features, committing every crinkle to memory. Her hand is hesitant to touch his face but the temptation is far superior than Morgiana's better judgement. She admires how his warm chin fits perfectly between her fingers. Her thumb gingerly strokes his soft cheek. Aladdin's breath hitches, eyes scrunching for a moment before smoothening out again. He leans into her touch, one that gradually slips away like a wraith in the night. She sorely misses the warm contact, replaced by the bitter morning chill clinging to this room. Losing sight of Aladdin is quite the challenge, one she doesn't mind failing miserably. Morgiana intends to witness all his discoveries, never to miss a single milestone on their journey together.

A breathless whisper in a lingua long past escapes her upturned lips, _"T_ _é Matj_ _é"._

Morgiana's smile falters after tasting the clandestine mother tongue of her dead clan.

 _Wayfinder_

Morgiana rises off the bed, heavy limbs still sore from her midnight squabble. Bare feet steadily planted on teetering floorboards, Morgiana wonders how long they've been on the move and how close they are to their long-awaited destination.

She really needs the restroom. Where did she drop her cloak?

Thoughts of finding the red robe bring Morgiana to a sudden realization. A pair of hands pat her wrapped hair, hidden beneath a weightless cerulean scarf. Aladdin's handiwork. Wise, in case anyone decided on opening their door before dawn. He's always two steps ahead of her.

The scarlet fabric forming a wide pool on the floor could only be Morgiana's cloak. She takes it up, fanning dust off the coat before draping it over her unbruised shoulder. Tugging Aladdin's woolen scarf off her head, Morgiana neatly folds the light blue cloth, placing it beside Aladdin's head.

Warmth instantly clings to Morgiana's skin as she dons her wrinkled cloak. She hugs the tailor-made fabric closer. Weaved within every thread is the meticulous care of its talented creator. Each fiber delivers concern, comforts, from gift giver to recipient. Morgiana smiles at the thought of Yunan. She can only hope he is faring well without them.

Clumsy footfalls stumble to the room's entrance. Morgiana's small hand skims along smooth wood, halting once she discovers a thin line of airflow. Which reminds her, this room is windowless, yet there's a cool draft circulating the crammed space. She wouldn't be surprised if this room had multiple doorways or it's enchanted. Morgiana's heard many a whisper since departing her kingdom, of items infused with The Essence. Blessed by those who carry Magi's sacred blessings. They say that most inventions from _Lightning_ are actually charmed by The Gifted, caravans might as well be.

Morgiana daintily pushes on the revolving door that turns under her hand.

She pauses.

Her hand withdraws from the wooded plank that twists in place as if never touched. Call it intuition, curiosity, she doesn't know but Morgiana finds herself gliding quietly across the room, fingers trailing invisible lines against the walls.

She stops again.

Another indent in the wood. If memory serves her well…

She pushes on the smooth board, awakening an old groan from the door that echoes spitefully. Morgiana cringes, her eyes dart towards Aladdin who rolls onto her unoccupied side of the bed. He takes little time to settle, Morgiana can breathe easy.

She returns to the wall, pushing much slower this time. The door sobs silently, able to shield what lies beyond it no longer. The area is dark but Morgiana's eyes trace the outlines of a small marble sink. Cautiously stepping across the threshold, she slips into the powder room.

Light shines from above at the same moment the door spins shut. Morgiana's intrigued by the automated lighting but more so by the accuracy of her hunch. She wouldn't be surprised to find that every room in this caravan is connected to another. Spotting a glint of steel in her peripherals, Morgiana locates the exact location of the door leading into the caravan's main room. She locks the loose barrel bolt in place lest someone decides to enter unannounced.

Staring into a pair of drained eyes is her haggard reflection. Morgiana refrains from removing her hood, afraid to witness what else lies beneath. Besides, what if she's being monitored?

Considering she's inside a washroom, that in itself is a far more terrifying thought.

Cool water falls through her fingers as Morgiana washes her face with both hands. She flinches at the grime that coats her wet palms. So…dirty.

Furiously scrubbing her hands and face clean, she closes the tap. There's a limit to how long Morgiana can go on without feeling clean. Showers are so wonderful. If anyone disagrees with that sentiment then they obviously have some issues. Her families – both past and present – would always complain about Morgiana's extensive baths. In her youth, she was known for skipping out on the more monotonous lessons for a frolic down to the tender stream that once swiveled through the southern gardens of the palace before it ran dry. For one who adores bodies of water, you would never think that swimming was the bane of Morgiana's existence. If there was ever the probability of summoning death's lurking presence, her father would have none of it.

Morgiana adds the skill to her mental list of goals.

Once she's done with the restroom, Morgiana unlocks the main entrance door then exits through the secret door into her temporary lodgings.

Aladdin snorts softly as Morgiana crosses the room. Finding her bag, she settles next to the snoozing boy with her back to the bed's mahogany headboard. The map of Magi is unfurled, splayed across her thighs. She can only assume their actual position on the map. If the destination of this caravan truly is the capital, they're currently travelling north-westward. Her finger outlines a spotted region on the map, depictions of desert area she assumes.

Dots freckle most of Fire Kingdom's territory. A handful of towns are scattered here and there, along with what looks like some oasis. Morgiana squints slightly to read the fainted letters.

Oleander Springs.

Sounds pleasant, unlike this ungodly desert. She catches some faded wording scribed along the border between _Fire_ and _Strength_ but it's indecipherable. Morgiana wouldn't be surprised if these parts were dubbed 'Plant Snake Desert' or something. Ruby eyes return to the capital where Morgiana's hoping they can perform their first objective, finding someone who's a spitfire. The capital holds the largest population of _Fire_ denizens, it's the ideal place to start looking. By Yunan's exegesis, The Gifted are commonplace. As difficult a medicine as it is to swallow, she will trust his word. Morgiana just needs to hone in on one of them and then…and then…

And then what, exactly?

Evicting the Tyrant King off her throne is a tall order. No sane person would dare oppose him. How would Morgiana even hope to defeat Sinbad if no one joins her cause?

He has power, influence, armies under his malevolent wings. Morgiana has herself and a cheeky alchemist. The choice is obvious if a bystander had to choose either affiliation. Her best bet in rallying cohorts is fanning the flames of hatred towards the Tyrant. His arrival may have been well received, but his supporters have dwindled over the years. Many nations would be more than willing to strike him down, but on their own they wouldn't stand a chance.

Fury seethes under Morgiana's skin, fueling her own fire. It's appalling, how the rulers of each Territory can't come together to eradicate this pestilence that's become canon within the annals of Magi's long history. Sinbad is a festering wound to this land, a slow yet lethal poison. Morgiana would do anything to see his defeat. Queen Sheba established the Fanalis Clan centuries ago. The reds and golds of her court – replaced by Sinbad's putrid greens and purples – were symbols of courage, luminance. Morgiana hopes to see those glittering banners once more, or she'll die trying.

" _Mother_." She breaths, head lowered in reverence, "Illuminate the way I should go and give this daughter the courage she needs to tread this path. My name is Morgiana of the house, Alexius. Swift, strong and fearless. I will not be shaken."

A chilling calm settles over Morgiana as she lifts her head. Her hand throbs with an otherworldly cold, defrosting moments later in the wake of a scorching heat.

The feeling is…familiar. This has happened before.

Opening and fisting her right hand, Morgiana shakes off the unusual sensation. The cot dips in warning before a light weight presses on her good shoulder, "Mor-ning, Mor!" Aladdin's chin cuddles the crook of her neck.

Morgiana leans away from him, withholding a sigh. The pun isn't lost on her, "Good morning, Aladdin." Morgiana rerolls the map.

Aladdin yawns, arms outstretched as he mumbles, "How long have you been up?"

"Not long." She responds, playfully tapping his cheek with the map mid-yawn. He covers his open mouth with a hand. Too late, his contagion spreads to the red head while she stuffs the old parchment inside her bag, "How...did you sleep?"

Aladdin stands too quickly, his unbalanced feet wobbling along with the moving caravan, "Best sleep I've had in days. What about you and your shoulder?"

"My shoulder is fine, thanks." Morgiana's hand tenderly rubs the injury, "Only because of you." She doesn't do it often but the compliment is genuine as it rolls off her tongue.

Aladdin puffs up like she knew he would, "Why thank you."

Morgiana found herself giggling with mirth, catching herself seconds later. It was short lived, but laughter all the same. How long has it been since she's vocalized such emotion?

Aladdin seems to be impressed, his lips form a wide grin, "Why did you stop? Your giggle's so cute, Mor."

The red head turns away from her brother, concealing her involuntary pout. Her voice is low, "I am not cute."

"I didn't say you were cute, I said your giggle was cute." Morgiana goes rigid at the insult, "You, on the other hand, are far more attractive than a mere 'cute' can describe." She turns to stone, "Mor?"

He doesn't get a response, not that Morgiana could.

Her hood is swept aside while she wasn't paying attention, unveiling scarlet tendrils and a wide pair of ruby eyes that take in the elegant smile raining down from above. Aladdin kneels on the bed nearest Morgiana, cupping her cheeks with his hands. He draws closer and their foreheads touch. Frozen in quiet stasis, the warmth of Aladdin's fingertips radiates into her skin. She still senses that lingering fever after his touch disappears.

Aladdin stands, thoughtful as his sights search the room. Morgiana smiles at him, it takes a few seconds before he notices. Aladdin returns the gesture.

"Ready to take on another day?" She asks.

Aladdin nods, his eyes glancing around the room again, "That I am." He walks over to a corner where all his belongings were stored, plucking his hat out of the pile and slapping it on his head, "But first, I need to find that bathroom."

Her best friend rushes to the entrance wall, "Wait." He halts when Morgiana stops him. She rises off the cot, taking his elbow with a hand and pulling him over to the adjacent wall with the other secret entrance.

Curiosity is evident in his amused eyes, "Mor, not to sound like the self-proclaimed, know-it-all that I am but the door's over there."

Morgiana puts on the brightest smile she can muster before the second door spins with a soft whine at her soft push. Her grin flatlines instantly, "You were saying?"

His astounded gasp harmonizes with the creaking door. Aladdin's eyes sparkle unnaturally as he makes the door open and shut repeatedly, "Mor!" His voice is a whisper, she can plainly see Aladdin's containing his avid excitement, "It's a door!"

"Fascinating." Morgiana's lackluster is palpable. She doubts Aladdin's even picked it up. Marveling at a revolving door is just that extraordinary.

"Woah!" He fiddles with the door, poking a head inside. Light descends upon the washroom and Aladdin gasps again, "Amazing!" He stares into the lights above, long enough to warrant worry from Morgiana. His retinas must be on fire, "There's even a sensory feature. I wonder why our room has regular lamps." Aladdin's reading into this discovery way too much. Does lighting matter that much?

Morgiana breaks through Aladdin's musings, covering her head, "As captivating as light fixtures are, didn't you have something else in mind for your trip to the restroom?"

He flashes a wide grin, "Oh yeah, forgot." How do you forget that?

Minutes later and Aladdin returns, "Mor!" His sudden outburst surprises Morgiana in the middle of adjusting her loose sandal straps.

"What is it?" She's almost afraid to hear the answer. If his gloating smile is anything to go by.

Aladdin takes her by the shoulders, Morgiana's nerves standing on edge, "We should get a caravan!" When she doesn't respond, Aladdin shakes her gently, "Ingenious, right?" His hands release her, "That way, we'll travel much faster than on foot, we'll have a roof over our heads, and I reckon we'll be safe from ambushes too."

Morgiana gathers her final thoughts together, voicing them as calmly as possible, "Aladdin, caravans get ambushed all the time. They are cargo holds, exceptional targets for thieves. Any bandit would much rather take their chances to loot a caravan over two lowly travelers on foot, and caravans are by no means cheap. Are you aware of how much gold a caravan would cost us? Not to mention maintenance, water, fuel. Those are expenses unaffordable unless we have a steady means of income. Besides, there are plenty of areas where travelling with a caravan would be impossible, meaning that our routes would be much longer and we cannot waste any time dallying. Do you understand?"

Morgiana hadn't realized how drastically Aladdin's face deflated until she was done, "You do realize you could have just said no."

"Well yes but I figured I should justify my answer since it is not up for debate." Morgiana stands, patting Aladdin's cheek with a small smile. Her best friend smiles back, his palm locking hers in place as it shrouds her tiny hand. Morgiana draws her hand away from Aladdin's cheek, instead she takes hold of her brother's hand, giving it a small squeeze, "We will get by with what we already have."

"Without a doubt." Aladdin nods, knitting their fingers before letting her go, "Fate has taken a liking to you, after all."

Morgiana quirks an eyebrow at the false statement. Looking back on her life thus far, she'd say that Fate holds a nasty grudge against her, "How so?"

Aladdin looks perplexed, his racing throughs evident on his features. A lazy smile soon takes over, "I'll leave that for you to discover on your own." Morgiana finds distaste in cryptic riddles, a struggle she shares with neither Aladdin nor Yunan who revel in mysterious inscriptions and such like, "Right now, I'm starving."

Thoughts of sustenance hadn't crossed Morgiana's mind until now, "Indeed. Also, we must determine our current location and how long it will take us to get to the capital." She plucks Aladdin's scarf off the bed, handing it to the boy who sends it off into the void.

"Think everyone's already awake?" He inquires, shrugging on his coat.

"Only one way to find out." Morgiana was already at the door.

Aladdin joins her, finding the entrance and pushing it open, "After you, my lady."

Morgiana hasn't heard that in years. Her scoff drips with excessive humour, masking any hints of sobriety, as she steps out first, "Why thank you, kind sir."

Natural light swarms the vacant living quarters of the caravan through an open window to their right. The arid breeze of the desert wafting into the room is much cooler than the day before, carrying a light trace of sand which sparingly coats the extravagant rug and wooden floorboards. Aladdin walks over to the window with Morgiana close behind. No longer surrounded by simply rock formations and sand dunes, the desert is now littered with pale greens and dry browns. Vegetation. Hopefully, not the carnivorous kind.

"Xerophytes." Aladdin muses aloud, eye trailed on each plant that passes by.

Morgiana fiddles through her vague knowledge of the subject. Botany lessons were never her strong suit, "Those are…plants that need little water to survive?"

"That's right." Aladdin says, clapping for Morgiana, "Seeing so many of them here, we must be close to a water source of some sort, or a village, maybe even the capital." His words are reassuring, the best news Morgiana's received since entering the Fire Kingdom.

"We're pretty close, about a day away."

Morgiana spun on her heels, arms raised and ready for the squealing female who falls to the floor with a loud thud. A small hiss escapes Sahsa's lips, she rubs her lower spine.

"Are you alright, Sahsa?" Aladdin dotes, rushing to the girl's aid.

He gives her a hand, easily plucking Sahsa off the hard floor with his other hand to her back. The brunette puts on a brave smile, "No worries. When I think about it, my sudden approach must have been startling. I'm sorry."

"Apologies." Morgiana bows low, retaining the prostrated position until Sahsa's silence is broken.

"No need for apologies. It was my fault for intruding." Morgiana raises her head to find the brunette bowed just as low. The red head straightens, observing Sahsa's impeccable reverence. Morgiana knows a court-trained bow anywhere, a gesture of Sahsa's level is something drilled into you. Judging by their social class, Morgiana couldn't begin to imagine what this girl must go through.

"Sahsa." The name is light on Morgiana's tongue. Sahsa looks up and the red head isn't certain if her expression is visible under her hood. If the brunette can see Morgiana's small smile, she doesn't show it on her guarded visage, "I suggest you not bow down to others so easily, I am not even worth it."

The girl stands upright, unease freckling her face as she looks elsewhere. Aladdin breaks through that gloom with a swift tackle and a jolly, "No worries Sahsa, and good morning!"

"Good…morning, Aladdin." She greets with half-hearted cheer. Aladdin pulls away, grinning at the brunette who slowly finds her smile again.

Morgiana was hesitant at first. She never thought that those words – albeit soft – would sound out of her mouth, "Good morning, Sahsa."

Timid is the brunette's response, a pleasant smile graces Sahsa's lips as she sang, "Good morning, Mor."

Aladdin's smile is noticeably larger, his eyes aren't shy in displaying his amusement towards his sister. The alchemist rounds on his heels, attention trailed on the window, "Hey Sahsa, by any chance, could you tell me about…that plant over there?"

The brunette joins him near the window, squinting to see the small rose bud protruding out of the sand a far distance away. Sahsa looks taken aback, "You entered the Serpent Sands without familiarizing yourselves with the locals?" Morgiana nearly deadpans at the area's name. She must remember to inscribe 'Serpent Sands' on her map, "They're Serpentines. By night, they're the beautiful flowers you witnessed last night, but by day they transform into sneaky vipers crawling below the sand. Once in a while, you get one or two above ground during the day. They secrete a sticky sap that can paralyze you in minutes," Aladdin takes note of Sahsa's explanation while Morgiana wonders exactly where his battered notebook appeared from. The brunette sifts through her brain for more information, "Generally, they don't attack unless provoked and they're sensitive to movement. Younger sprouts are a lighter shade of green but their sap isn't as potent."

"I see." In his haste to write it all down, Aladdin's notes are barely comprehensible. He shuts the notebook once he's finished. Grateful, he smiles at Sahsa, "Thank you very much. Truly, I appreciate it!"

"No problem!" Sahsa's response is upbeat, "If there is anything else you would like to know, feel free to ask."

"Woah, so…you know everything there is to know about everything!" Aladdin's gotten way ahead of himself.

The red head cuts in before Sahsa could give her response, stating flatly, "She obviously meant she would answer to the best of her ability, Aladdin."

"Mor is correct. I don't have a formal education to begin with so try to keep your expectations low. Um, excuse me for a moment." Sahsa retreats to the kitchen.

"Sure." Aladdin says to the brunette's back.

Morgiana's voice is low as her whisper fills Aladdin's ear, "When she returns, ask Sahsa about the Fire Kingdom, the capital, everything. Glean as much information out of her as possible."

Aladdin tilts his head, shooting Morgiana with a smug, "Why can't you do it?"

"You…are more experienced with verbal communication than I am. Conversations come naturally to you." She says with growing distaste at Aladdin's smirk.

The high-pitched clank of ceramics and silverware herald Sahsa's speedy return. She carries a steel kettle and white mugs on a small yellow tray, setting the tea atop the small table at the center of the room, "I hope you don't mind sitting on the floor, there's not much furniture."

"That's okay, thank you Sahsa." Aladdin replies, easing the girl's apparent worry.

Sahsa heads back to the kitchen and returns with another platter, this one filled with a variety of berries, "Are either of you hypersensitive to fruits?"

"Fruits are fine, Sahsa. You worry about the smallest things." Morgiana agrees with Aladdin's remark. Sahsa's pure and kindhearted nature is astonishing.

The brunette joins them on the carpet, "I'm just concerned is all. You are both our special guests. I could never begin to forgive myself if you both got injured or sick in my care."

"We appreciate your kindness." Aladdin says, they both smile at each other.

Morgiana could only observe their overzealous exchange in silence. The brunette takes up her teakettle, pouring tea into each cup. Sahsa and Aladdin break into conversation about tea brewing as Morgiana listens absentmindedly. She plucks a few berries from the dish, slipping them into her mouth where their succulent flavours burst in tangy explosions throughout her mouth.

"So Sahsa, tell us about the capital. What should we expect once we get there?" Their conversation smoothly transitions into a direction that's piqued Morgiana's dwindling interests.

The brunette draws the mug away from her lower lip, resting the hot cup on the tabletop, "Hm, the Fire Kingdom's capital…It's been a while but what I can tell you is, it's one of the busiest cities in all of Magi. _Fire_ relies heavily on trade, so you find plenty of commuters going in and out, hence the reason why they have strict law enforcement at customs and immigration. They check everything. Who or what comes in, to when it leaves. Non-citizens are given a length of stay in the capital – usually a fortnight – but the time allotted depends on why exactly you're visiting, whether for business or pleasure."

Strict border security doesn't sit well with Morgiana.

"Right now, the Kingdom's making preparations for a by-election." Morgiana's ears perk up at that piece of information, "Apparently, there's some internal conflict going on within the royal family about appointing the next king since the previous king passed a little over a month ago."

Interesting. Definitely odd, but intriguing nonetheless. She wasn't even aware of King Rashid's passing. Morgiana needs to update herself on world events. Aladdin and Sahsa miss the frown that settles on Morgiana's face. King Rashid was a kind soul. Beloved by his people, a natural born leader who ushered his country into an era of prosperity. Morgiana recalls their short encounter at the annual Territory Representative's Summit five years ago – hosted by the Fanalis Domain at the time. His delegation was first to arrive, a small band of parliamentary members from _Fire_ along with his two sons. Forgive her, she couldn't remember the gangly boy's names but she knows their spellings were pretty close. King Rashid had a peaceful countenance, but a fierce handshake. His strong grip could shatter bones, a miracle considering his mature age. Less rowdy compared to the other heads of state, but he possessed a tongue like quicksilver and the cunning to use it to his advantage. King Rashid was never one to beat around the bush.

Losing such an esteemed monarch must have been a staggering blow to the Territory. No doubt the other nations are scheming to gain favor with the forthcoming King. Rashid Saluja was no pushover, one of few to resist the Tyrant King's influence on his lands. Morgiana can only hope that their new king won't fall into Sinbad's wicked snare. Although, she's curious as to why they've resorted to elections. The next king should obviously be the previous sovereign's eldest son.

Are the brothers warring for the throne?

Morgiana never liked politics. Power struggles, slanderous allegations, such a headache. And for what, personal benefits? Corpses decay in the same manner as rotten material possessions. Anyone can earn a spectacular fortune in this lifetime, but what's the point once you're six feet under? This world is fleeting, can be swept from right under you in the twinkling of an eye. Making every little moment count, living in the present, that's what truly matters.

Everything has its season.

Just as Morgiana's time has come.

"…don't wear any clothes?"

"Well…sort of."

Morgiana turns her attention away for two seconds and the conversation has already taken a drastic tangent.

"Are the women as good looking as they say?" Morgiana scowls, resisting the urge to smack Aladdin's head amidst that risqué query.

"I…suppose?" Morgiana applauds Sahsa's ability to keep a straight face, "Their beauty can only be described as remarkable and their outfits are simply stunning, light coloured as to keep away the heat. Men are usually bare-chested with long, baggy pants."

Aladdin's head dips sideways, alarm in his eyes, "So…men aren't allowed to wear shirts?"

"By law." Aladdin turns white as a sheet. Sahsa suppresses a laugh, "I tease Aladdin, sorry. No need to grow pale." The blue haired boy leans on the more conservative side of the spectrum. Morgiana can count on only one hand the number of times she's witnessed Aladdin showing off some skin. The red head isn't adventurous either.

"But won't they get sunburn by exposing themselves like that?" Morgiana thought the same. Their clothing isn't completely suitable for desert travel – Morgiana will need to invest in a pair of boots – but it's far better than scanty clad bodies exposed to the sweltering heat. _The Book of Magi_ 's breathtaking illustrations are breathtaking for many a reason. _Fire_ 's artistic depictions from the past accurately display just how sultry the kingdom and populace can be.

"From what I can tell, that is not the case. I believe their heat withstanding secret is their Territory's _Dominance_." Aladdin's mystified expression isn't missed by Sahsa whose own face scrunches up in confusion, "You don't know what that is?"

Morgiana sucks in a breath. Luckily, the pair seated near her are none the wiser. Quickly, she recovers with an emotionless retort, "General knowledge tends to slip Aladdin's memory at times." In keeping up with the ruse that they're denizens of either _Fire_ or _Strength –_ now obviously the latter, Morgiana is forced with the difficult task of adlibbing, "It's absurd to believe that there exists someone in Magi who's never heard of _Dominance_."

Well, one such actually exists. The thought never revealed itself to the red head. Aladdin has no idea what _Dominance_ is. It's not something that the Fanalis Clan possessed anyway, so it wasn't part of her curriculum. What little Morgiana understands about _Dominance_ came from reading one of Yunan's decrepit tomes: If one were to compare having The Essence as a well of power within, then _Dominance_ is the leftover dregs at the bottom of said well. Inklings of magic thought to be the root of The Essence. It resides within every living creature, a foreshock proceeding the dormant Essence simmering in wait. Whether unused or abused, that is left to the wielder's discretion.

That's it!

The amber eyed man's fighting style, his agility, that swiftness on his feet.

It was _Dominance_!

Is he from Lightning Nation, like Sahsa? Morgiana takes it that _Lightning's Dominance_ deals with speed. Unless the man affiliates with _Wind_. Think of all the potential combat formulas one can come up with! Morgiana secretly wishes that she owned _Dominance_. Although, when she thinks about what _Strength_ 's potential _Dominance_ might be, wouldn't you say that it's a trait that her people also share, maybe even more so?

 _Dominance_ might be the perfect tool to determine exactly where Aladdin's from. Anyone with functional eyes would conclude that Aladdin's no Fanalis, thus whichever _Dominance_ he owns dictates his motherland. From what Morgiana's garnered from Yunan over the years, the man happened upon Aladdin in a state of near death, abandoned in the low veldt regions skirting Vulpina Ridge at the southernmost border of the Wind Tribe. Apparently, the boy had no memories of his past, where he was raised, his parents, nothing. It would be a shame to leave Aladdin's backstory unresolved. He's never brought it up before and Morgiana has enough tact to discern when and when not to pry. Certainly, some would rather keep their past behind them, a fastened jar that's stowed away on the highest shelf where none can reach. Question is, does Aladdin feel the same?

"Very true." It's a good thing Sahsa is easily fooled, or too trusting, whichever you would prefer, "I take it that you both bear _Strength's Dominance_. Your prowess last night is a testament to such, Mor."

"And you, _Lightning's Dominance_." Morgiana responds, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the brunette's assertions.

Sahsa nods with a halfhearted smile, "Although, I can only use it for running away. Even then, it's not exactly effective if I get caught, like yesterday."

Vertigo hits them like a fierce battering ram.

Morgiana breathlessly drops to the floorboards, tossing Aladdin away from her chest in the same heartbeat. Her brother yelps, Morgiana would too if she were flipped through the air before faceplanting into the floor.

"Aladdin!" Morgiana shrieks, crawling a few inches towards her fallen friend. He moans quietly as Aladdin sits up, rubbing the bridge of his nose. She upholds him by his shoulders. Thank goodness, it appears he didn't break anything, "I am so sorry."

His eyes are squinted shut in dismay but Aladdin waves Morgiana off, "Don't worry about it, Mor."

The small din of china drew Morgiana's attention to Sahsa, the girl was firmly holding onto their breakfast tray at the tiny table, "Are you two alright?" She inquires, clearly unaffected by the caravan's spontaneous lurch.

"Fine, thanks." Aladdin answers just as the brunette stands.

Sahsa makes her way to the kitchen door, balancing their breakfast wares while slipping through the opening, "We've arrived at the sentry station much faster than I thought we would."

Something cold slithers down Morgiana's spine.

Sentry station…

Her fingers dig into Aladdin's rigid shoulders.

"Sorry we didn't tell you about our quick stop. We plan on dropping off fugitives to the relevant authorities. Luckily, the Sindria Soldiers in this area aren't stingy when it comes to payment."

They're caught.

Morgiana climbs to her feet in an instant, Aladdin quick to follow. Sahsa has already returned, the girl senses their apparent alarm, "What's wrong?"

A door randomly opens to their right, Morgiana and Aladdin reel backwards as a tired looking man steps out of the room he once occupied, "Sahsa, have the criminals been taken care of?" Morgiana feels a cold presence on her right arm. Sparing a quick glance, she notes the black ball in Aladdin's hand behind his back and stealthily takes hold of it.

"Yes," The girl nods in approval, "They should be losing consciousness anytime soon." Morgiana swallows. Were they poisoned!?

"Such a stroke of luck to catch five Wanted!" The man rejoices, "We never could have accomplished such a feat without you both."

Morgiana and Aladdin blink, "Come again?" Aladdin says.

"The bandits from last night recently appeared in Wanted, we're handing them over to get the gold on their heads." The man explains with a gleeful glint in his eyes.

And Morgiana would have bludgeoned them both.

"Oh," Aladdin's apprehension dies much quicker than Morgiana's, "When you said Sindria Soldiers…we've had bad experiences with them back home."

"Who hasn't." The man spat, "They're scum, the lot of them. Their self-righteous leader can go rot in the deepest pits of the underrealm."

Sahsa's facial features shift in concern, her lowered vocals laced with understandable apprehension "Oji-ji, someone might hear you."

The man snorts without apology, "Let them hear. There's no difference between the land of the living or death under that tyrant's rule. Your mother keeps telling you to rid your mind of all those sugarcoated fantasies of yours, it's about time you take her advice. Grow some backbone, Sahsa, you'll need it soon enough." His eyes drift towards Aladdin who's frowning, "Aladdin, would you mind helping us for a minute?"

"Sure." He's quick to agree even when the task is unknown, "How are your wounds this morning?" They slip into medic-patient chatter on the way to the caravan's exit and I'm left with Sahsa whose distant gaze is unsettling. Her companion was right, I'm sure the girl's aware of this as well.

Following her lofty sigh, Sahsa puts on a kind smile, completely masking her former dejection. She's a master of feigning emotion to the point where it's commendable, "My uncles can be quite cynical. Anyway, mind if we step outside for a little while?"

"Lead the way." Morgiana remarks quietly, still recovering from that scare.

Leaping out of the stuffy caravan into relatively dry air, Morgiana never expected an encounter with such a grandiose tower. Poor souls have been abandoned to this pillar of heat? Sindria Soldiers or no, being stationed at this site must be some form of capital punishment. Although, Morgiana appreciates how generous this building has been in providing adequate shade.

Four tiers tall at most, sentries are scattered around the grounds of this holding facility. These stations were the starting point of Sinbad's plans for Magi. Sureties, the perfect ruse to keep ample footing within every Territory if necessary. They act as military barracks for his greener guards while the more seasoned soldiers take refuge within Sindria. Sentry stations also double as temporary prison cells until convicts are transferred to either Magi's correctional facility in Sound Nation or to the Tyrant King directly, depending on the severity of their crime.

Aladdin, along with the other men are hauling the group of bandits from last night's squall out of a compartment at the caravan's back. They take their time in dragging the limp bodies towards the tower's open archway, soldiers onlooking with crossed expressions. It's not strange to wonder exactly how standard merchants were able to subdue five brawny men.

Bloodlust taints the atmosphere like a dead carcass.

Morgiana's sights find the origins of such fervent killing intent.

Amber eyes.

Unlike the others, he's fully conscious, glaring in the red head's direction. She's certain the man would be spilling some choice words if a gag hadn't been fastened to his mouth. That stare speaks volumes, however, to the point where Morgiana's glad she'll never see him again. Good riddance.

"Sahsa?" My sideways glance shifts to the brunette.

"Hm?" She's startled, as if Morgiana vocalizing her name hasn't quite registered as yet.

"Perchance, would you happen to have a copy of Wanted?" A magazine illustrating upscale killers, lowly bandits and everything in between who carry exceptional bounties on their heads. Distributed at the beginning of each quarter in the year, not many miss out on acquiring a copy. Her father made sure that no copies of the dark publication were within the castle walls lest the princess find one, Yunan usually stored it within his restricted room so Morgiana's never had an in-depth study of Wanted. Professions such as Mercenaries, Assassins, even Bounty Hunters are on the rise, especially in this age where Sinbad's influence can be felt across the entire landscape. Everyone has to make a living somehow.

Sahsa nods, "We do, I'll be right back." The brunette leaves in search of the booklet. Morgiana didn't exactly want to see it right then and there but, no time like the present.

The girl returns in under a minute, passing the magazine to Morgiana, "Thank you very much."

"No problem." Sahsa responds cheerfully.

Black pages stained with white lettering, WANTED sat boldly on the front cover as it does on every issue. Morgiana flips through the first pages that highlight the newest entries this quarter. The sketches inside Wanted are remarkable for hand drawn artworks, the likeness to their living counterparts is said to be phenomenal and Morgiana sees why. In six pages, she's face to face with the illustration of Drakon. Identical, not a fault to be found. Underneath the drawing is an adequate description of the man, as well as some background information. Then comes the reward.

 _Alive_

 _Drakon -_ _§ 500 G_

Five hundred gold coins!

With that much coin, Morgiana and Aladdin can cover expenses for their entire journey. A small fortune like this would be a big help to Sahsa and her family as well. Morgiana turns the page, noting the other felon's profiles and their worth in silver. Calculating in her mind, that's a total of five hundred and sixty gold. She's happy these merchants can reap the benefits from their meeting with Drakon and his associates. Amber eyes must definitely be their leader, Morgiana flips to his page once again.

It says that he plundered a village north of Fire Kingdom's capital, injuring over fifty and causing the deaths of at least seven. Morgiana stops herself from shredding the booklet in half.

What is that? Who gave him the right to…sighing, she puts a lid on her broiling temper and moves on.

Skimming the contents of Wanted, Morgiana attempts to commit some names and faces to memory with the little time she has with the magazine. It slowly dawns on Morgiana that, if her father wanted her to be safe, wouldn't the best option be to let her know what some of these criminals looked like so she knows to say far away from them?

Some of these entries are dated. Here's one with a young girl from two years ago. She's grinning like mad in the portrait, her index and middle fingers form a V shape near her masked covered right eye, as if she allowed the artist free reign to capture this image for Wanted. No description, no information, no name.

 _Alive_

 _Unknown - § 9,500 G_

Morgiana thought Drakon's bounty was impressive, the price on this mysterious girl's head is a carefree journey into the lap of pure luxury! The poorest of commoners would be set for life.

"Hey, what's that?" Aladdin appears out of thin air, seizing Wanted out of Morgiana's hands, "Can I see it?"

Well that was rude.

They must be finished with the transaction. Sahsa's family members are grinning from ear to ear with their plump sack of gold. Unwise to lower their guards so easily in the face of unsubtle onlookers. It's best they leave as soon as possible. Upon boarding the caravan, Sahsa's uncle from earlier extends a small pouch to Morgiana, "For your troubles."

Morgiana shakes her head, settling herself near the window just as the caravan begins a slow crawl along the sandy earth, "No, thank you."

"No need to be modest, just take it. It should all be yours actually." So why offer a mere percentage of the spoil?

"Keep it." Morgiana catches Aladdin facepalming in disappointment behind the older male.

Sahsa's uncle is persistent, a stubborn trait that apparently bleeds through their ancestry, "Please, accept it as payment for assisting us."

"How about a compromise?" Aladdin steps in, taking the sack to which Morgiana responds with a serious glower at her best friend, "Mor, what if we…take only one hundred gold, then everyone's happy."

Resolve unmoved, Morgiana leans on the windowsill allowing the desert's gentle breeze to slap her cheeks with her hood, "If you want it, take it for yourself Aladdin. I refuse to accept a single copper."

"Why?" Sahsa inquires, seemingly confused by Morgiana's behavior.

In truth, the gold she carries is less than half of that reward but, "There is no need for us to take it when your family can put it to better use."

Is she being too complacent because Morgiana's never tasted true poverty?

Gold has sway, a bargaining tool with budding potential to get them much farther. Accumulating it would be wise but Morgiana feels much more comfortable with leaving the reward to Sahsa's family's discretion. It's hard to make a decent living these days, if that gold can satisfy the desires of just a few of Magi's inhabitants then Morgiana is content.

No use thinking about negotiation chips now anyway, Morgiana will leave that coin up her sleeve for a later day.

"Ah well," Aladdin offers a wry smile, folding the pouch within Sahsa's uncle's hand, "Big sis is the boss, I trust her judgement."

"To think I'd ever meet someone who'd willingly turn down gold." The man shakes his head, pocketing the hefty pouch. His retreating footsteps end the conversation.

Morgiana strains to decipher Sahsa's whisperings, "Mor is so…cool, is she always like this?"

Aladdin is perfectly clear in answering, Morgiana can hear the smirk in his voice, "Don't let that nonchalance fool you, Mor's a very sensitive girl." If only her attention hadn't slipped away from the gossiping pair.

Every silver specter above has faded away, granting the sky's singular eye prejudicial freedom to glare daggers of sunlight upon the earth. Midday encroaches, what an uneventful morning. Not that Morgiana minds, an inkling of peace is certainly appreciated in these trying times. She's focuses on the jagged terrain outside the caravan, how its wooden frame rocks sideways at irregular intervals. Dehydrated plant life is frequently spotted, intermingled with skeletal remnants of trees and the occasional greenery.

"Yes!" The resounding screech pierces Morgiana's ears. She straightens from her slouch at the window, looking over her left shoulder.

Aladdin and Sahsa are seated on the caravan floor, scintillating sunshine splayed on their jolly faces. The blue haired alchemist meets Morgiana's gaze, "Mor, come try this game Sahsa taught me." Morgiana makes no move to join them but instead gives them her full attention by turning around completely, "It goes like this…" Scarlet eyes study Aladdin's hand gestures and the actions they signify. One of stone, another parchment and lastly a pair of scissors, "So rock tramples paper-"

"No, it's the other way around Aladdin. Paper covers rock." Sahsa interjects.

He scratches his chin bashfully, "Oh yeah, that. Scissors cut through paper but rock smashes scissors. It's really fun. Sahsa's the master of this game."

The brunette shakes her head modestly, "That's not true at all."

Morgiana's shoulders slightly relax, she didn't realize how tense they were until she takes a seat with Aladdin and Sahsa. Subtly strained, her voice is soft, "Okay. How about a demonstration, if you will."

Both combatants eye the other competitively, fists outstretched between them, "Rock, paper, scissors!"

Aladdin delivers a clenched fist while Sahsa covers his hand with her flattened palm a second later. So that's her trick, "Why do you always win?"

"Luck?" She shrugs innocently.

How shrewd. Was Aladdin not paying attention earlier when they briefly discussed the girl's heritage? Sahsa's from _Lightning_ , Morgiana finds it difficult to believe that her brother could be this oblivious. Well that proves Aladdin isn't from the electrified nation.

Morgiana understands the game, holding her fist out to the brunette who seems perturbed by the sudden challenge. It'll be interesting to see how _Lightning_ 's unparalleled speed rivals her Fanalis blood.

"Ready?" Mor gives a nod, eyes locked on Sahsa's stationary fist. Both hands bounce in the air at the brunette's habitual chant, "Rock, paper, scissors!"

Snapping out of a subconscious stupor, Morgiana blinks at her unchanged fist now covered by Sahsa's palm, "Paper beats rock, Sahsa wins!" Aladdin announces and Sahsa's hand withdraws.

Glad that the girl's skin made a hasty retreat, Morgiana releases a sharp breath all the while suppressing the growing taste of defeat on her tongue, slightly peeved at her underperformance. She'd been so enraptured by catching the final glimpse of the brunette's chosen action that Mor had no room to react herself. Sahsa's good. She's lying to herself if the soft-spoken girl believes her heritage is a mere escape route.

"Once more." Morgiana hold her fist out, determined to win against Sahsa. The red head would like to think she isn't the competitive type but sadly she'll always lose to her stubborn nature.

"Okay, best two out of three then." Sahsa complies, extending her own fist.

"Rock, paper," She sees it! "Scissors."

Aladdin's vigorous claps were nearly drowned out by Morgiana's thoughts, "Great job, Mor. You won!"

Red eyes stare disappointedly at Sahsa's open palm in the same breath as Morgiana returns her extended fingers to her fist, "Ah well, we still have one round to go." How can Sahsa smile so freely when she purposely handed Morgiana the win. Disadvantages aside, Morgiana would rather lose with pride than attain such a shallow victory.

"Indeed, lets have a fair match." Morgiana states, a bolt of guilty emotion crosses Sahsa's visage.

The brunette nods, a sudden smirk decorates her lips, "You've discovered the secret, I presume."

"You were not exactly subtle about it." Sahsa's open palm was completely visible at the final draw.

Aladdin's head spins from Morgiana to Sahsa, "Did I miss something?"

Neither girl answers, their fists nearly bumping at the ready, "Rock, paper, scissors!"

Settled between the two at the climax of their duel were a pair of locked fists, neither a victor nor a loss.

"Looks like we tied, Mor. Good game." Is that really the case? Morgiana suspects the brunette of foul play once again but decides to swallow the thought.

Paper…a hand is extended to Morgiana. Glancing up without shifting her lowered head, scarlet eyes capture a genuine smile. She didn't realize ample time has elapsed since Sahsa offered the gesture until Aladdin nudges her with a shoulder. Twitching on contact, Morgiana wills her rigid hand to shake Sahsa's softer palm, "Yes, nicely done." Enamored by their little pastime, Morgiana failed to realize the caravan has stopped, "We stopped."

"Oh, we're taking another rest stop, sorry." Sahsa frowns in apology, releasing Morgiana's hand, "My grandfather needs a break every now and then when he's at the caravan's controls. Since my uncles are still treating their injuries, they aren't as fit for steering either. Myself or even mother would do it if we were taught how. We intended to stop in this spot though, to gather some firewood."

Morgiana nods in understanding. Truth be told, she appreciates this moment's reprieve, for her unsettled stomach's sake.

"So…" Aladdin drawls for far too long, "Does this mean we can see the shop?" Sapphire gems gleam expectantly at the brunette.

Sahsa looks thoughtful, a finger to her chin, "Hm, sure I suppose."

"Yes!" His rejoicing howl stabs Morgiana's ears, she wouldn't be surprised if they bled.

"Excuse me, Aladdin?" The trio's attention is stolen by Sahsa's returning uncle, "Would you be willing to assist us with chopping some logwood?"

"Oh, sure." Tone bittersweet, Aladdin rises from the floor, trailing after his patient, "I'll need to switch your bandages for fresh ones, uncle. You shouldn't be out and about like this at all, you need rest." Morgiana couldn't say whether Aladdin's concern is sincere or an attempt at persuading the older man to stay indoors.

"We can manage, thank you son." His large hand seizes Aladdin by the shoulder, "Can't rest when there's work to be done."

Aladdin pauses at the entrance where Sahsa's uncle steps out first, a cocky smile on his face, "Try not to have too much fun without me."

Morgiana couldn't resist an eyeroll, unlike Sahsa who laughs, "We'll try, happy wood chopping."

Disappearing from sight, Aladdin abandons Morgiana yet again. Sahsa climbs to her feet, offering a hand to the red head, "I remember this saying from one of my favourite childhood novels." Morgiana accepts Sahsa's hand, her fingers terribly stiff as the brunette's chilly hand assists her off the floor, "When the cat leaves, the mice do whatever they wish!"

"When the cat is away, the mice will play." Prose from the _Falan's Fables_ collection if Morgiana's memory is right. A good read, Yunan often referred to those stories during his lessons and Aladdin would drink every last drop.

Sahsa gasps, "That sounds even better, and it rhymed!" Morgiana stifles a weary groan. Those two would get along swimmingly if…only the brunette were to join them on their travels. Morgiana banishes the thought. She hasn't grown attached to the brunette, Sahsa's simply one of the many passersby Morgiana was destined to meet on her journey.

Guiding them to the empty portion of wall besides the kitchen door, Sahsa presents…nothing but a bare slab of wood, "Here we are. This door is a little different from the others." Sahsa's fingers run down the wall, pausing sharply. Her thumb pokes the wall and a square once perfectly hidden from view is pressed. Her index finger is next, middle and ring follow, spreading themselves over the wood in search of other secret grooves. Finally, Sahsa's pinky finger touches the last square, struggling to fully pressurize the far-off button.

Morgiana hears a tiny _click_ on the opposite side of the wall. Sahsa's left hand quickly gets to work, sourcing similar spots below the five initial squares. Another _click!_ Wood peels away on Sahsa's right, crawling into an open space between two plywood boards in the low ceiling. Ruby eyes observe Sahsa's careful fingers as they desert the keys…the buttons. Triggering such an intricate mechanism must be precise, Sahsa lifts her fingers off the squares in an odd sequence.

"Do you play?" The girl is startled, her right index finger leaving the final square.

"What do you mean?" Sahsa inquires, eyebrows furrowed.

Morgiana's gaze lowers to Sahsa's hands, "Your fingers have a distinctive appeal to them, a musician's proficiency. Trained and talented."

Sahsa's face instantaneously breaks into an embarrassed blush, outperforming Morgiana's bold red hair. Disbelief stains her timid voice, "T-talented! I w-would never attribute such a term to my mediocre skills." Sahsa eyes the inside of Mogiana's hood, the Fanalis growing self-conscious. Morgiana hopes the darkness beneath hasn't lost its efficiency to the light of day, "I'm amazed you were able to pick that up after watching me open the door. Is it safe to assume you also play an instrument?" The girl is desperate to draw attention away from herself. Morgiana is somewhat insulted that her praise is being sidelined by the brunette.

"That is correct." Morgiana admits, "I specialize in the pianoforte. You?"

As though the brunette missed the latter part of Morgiana's explanation, Sahsa gasps in splendid surprise, "Amazing!" Her eyes glisten with childlike innocence, "The pianoforte is such a lovely instrument."

Morgiana agrees wholeheartedly. If there was any lesson she looked forward to during her life as a royal, it was Music. Sweet, melodious sounds, embodiments of emotion. Oh, why has Sahsa rekindled that lost love? "Just as any instrument is beautiful. I take it you play another?"

"I'm not exactly great at it…" Sahsa reveals a flat silver necklace around her neck, exposing a short metallic shaft as its centerpiece. Detaching the pole with a single key along its length, Sahsa holds it out. Rose gold, the metal instrument extends, forming an elegantly crafted flute in its immaculate entirety.

"Remarkable." Morgiana's vocals are hushed. If only the pianoforte came in travel size.

"It's just a flute, nothing special." Sahsa twirls the metal instrument lightly.

Morgiana shakes her head in disagreement, "Every musical instrument is special in its own way. The flute requires much more energy and skill, not to mention lung capacity."

"I beg to differ. The pianoforte is much more taxing. It takes discipline, an instrument that's easy to pick up yet difficult to master." Sahsa is adamant in her stance.

Morgiana can debate all day with the brunette over musical instruments and such like but, "The main idea of the story is, every musical instrument matters."

Sahsa mellows her frustrations, the metal flute in her hands retracting. Clipping it back to her necklace, the brunette sweeps her lengthy hair off her shoulders, grinning in agreement, "Indeed, I suppose."

Establishing some common ground between them eases Morgiana's seedling of stress. Admittedly, she's been suffering from a small dose of separation anxiety ever since Aladdin's departure but its effects are dampened by Sahsa's kindness. The brunette steps into the darkness first.

A bright flash stuns Morgiana's movements, lightbulbs automatically turning on. Adjusting to its intensity, Morgiana blinks tiny spots of black from her vision, "There's another switch I'm not allowed to show you, but it shifts these walls so the room opens up to the outside."

A dazzling rainbow of bejeweled ensembles line the walls, their gleaming, crystalline gemstones impair the eye. Wooden trays designed in the likeness of cupboard drawers are extend from their hiding places. Fine jewelry, expensive trinkets, sensual perfumes, even bottled spices and fragile glassware, an impressive display. Unopened boxes sat along the room's end, more wares supposedly.

"Help yourself, Mor." Sahsa best be prepared to receive some coin with that ridiculous insinuation just now.

Morgiana's eyes catch the sterling glow of a pristine pair of cuffs. Giant rubies near identical to Morgiana's sparkling eyes match her compelled stare, embellished at the center of each silver piece. They look nice, but such fancies aren't necessary. Jewelry doesn't suit Morgiana anyway.

"May I recommend a change of clothing for your travels through the north?" Sahsa cuts through Morgiana's thoughts, "You and Aladdin will stand out once you enter the capital wearing such dark attire. The desert heat can be harsh this time of year, maybe traveling in something lighter would be best. Oh, but that's just my musings. Pay me no mind." The brunette digresses, rubbing an arm dejectedly. Morgiana frowns at the sight. That's no way to sell Morgiana their products.

"Any suggestions?"

Sahsa's head snaps upwards, the brunette obviously taken aback, "Huh?"

Morgiana shifts her body so that they're facing each other, albeit her head is slightly bowed, "I am asking for your opinion, if you have any apparel in mind for myself and my brother."

"Y-yes, of course." The girl speaks as if she has no voice, as if her thoughts and feelings are invalid. Morgiana chews on her bottom lip, contemplating…

Sahsa shuffles through the articles of clothing furthest from the entranceway, a collection of white fabrics in a wide host of designs. She settles on a knee length dress, one that's lacking in sequined fanfare. For that, Morgiana is grateful, "I'm not exactly sure what your dress size is but this should do. Light, but the material is just the right thickness for daylight travel. I can find a matching veil to shield you from the sun and cover your face. Would you like to try it on?" Sahsa hands the outfit to Morgiana, "I will give you some privacy…actually, you should use another ro-"

The brunette's words are cut short, just as her hastened steps towards the exit. Morgiana's hand refuses to let go of Sahsa's wrist, the brunette's surprise morphs to confusion. Releasing her throbbing lip, Morgiana sighs inwardly, steeling her nerves. Breathing becomes much harder than it was moments ago, a heavy weight settles on her insides. Morgiana's well aware of her quivering fingers, how they tremble in trepidation. She wills herself to calm down, unless Morgiana would enjoy a crackling serenade compliments Sahsa's broken bones.

"Can…" She's breathless, the words barely audible in the still silence, "I trust you…"

Sahsa doesn't answer. Whether she heard or did not, Morgiana asks again but with a confidence she lacked on her first attempt, "Can I trust you?" Her voice croaked under the intense gravity of those solemn words.

The brunette's eyes fall to the shivering grip on her arm. Nodding once without an inkling of emotion on her features, Sahsa removes Morgiana's weakened hand, followed by the smooth interlocking of their right pinky fingers, "Will you accept my word, or would you rather a blood oath." Morgiana struggles to suppress her gasp.

No flinch, no hesitation, Sahsa would willingly offer such an accursed oath to someone she's known for only one day?

Morgiana's somber demeanor transforms to heart warmed elation. Shaking her head, Morgiana mumbles with a sad smile, "No, thank you. I do not wish to see your blood on my hands," Both literally and figuratively, "Because you might just change your mind."

Morgiana tightens their linked fingers before letting go, a silent thank you to this wonderful girl. She huffs, forcing all the air in her lungs out through her lips. Taking time to stabilize herself, Morgiana reaches for her hood. Both hands rise to either side of the red fabric, peeling it off her head. What sweet relief to be out of that sweltering heat, Morgiana swipes off the hair clinging to her sweaty neck. Sadly, that sweetness hasn't been extended to the brunette. With such terror filled eyes, it looks like Sahsa's candied world is on the brink of harrowing decay.

* * *

 **A thousand and one apologies for taking so long to update. I've been a bit busy for the past few months. I've also come to realize that setting an update date doesn't work for me. I also took some time to map out where exactly I wish to take this story. I've worked out most of the major events and have two endings in mind so yay?**

 **This is the longest chapter so far. I didn't want it to be this long by the way, but if longer chapters are better, let me know! (Considering I don't update as frequently as I wish, maybe long chapters are the way to go? But please, share your thoughts.)**

 **Thanks again for reading, following, favouriting, reviewing, whichever one you did, thank you!**

 **'** ** _T_ _é Matj_ _é' -_ [Tay - Ma - Chay] (The literal translation is 'landmark' but details, details.)**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Plastered against a frigid wall at an empty hallway intersection, her seven year old head pokes out into the open but quickly draws back.

He's coming!

Morgiana grins from ear to ear in giddy anticipation, stifling a devious laugh. His footsteps are light, her shallow breaths lighter, there's no way she'll be detected. Closer, nearer, almost…

Now!

 _"Rawr!"_ Morgiana springs out of hiding with clawed fingers and a savage smile.

 _"Oh, it's just you."_ His tone was dry as always, dark eyes impassive while they wander downward. Why must he be so much taller than she is?

A heavy hand pets Morgiana's head, she pouts at her unfazed brother, _"You were supposed to be scared!"_

Emotion slithers onto his features, a rare occurrence for Masrur. A tiny smirk pulls at his lips, _"Of what, you?"_

The princess bats his hand away, scowling at the twelve year old prince, _"Admit it, you were frightened when I jumped out at you."_

 _"Not even remotely."_ Masrur shakes his head with folded arms, his condescending nature making her blood boil.

 _"Just you wait, brother. I_ will _scare the living daylights out of you some day!"_ Morgiana promises.

With a final tap to her head – a gesture of endearment for the apathetic prince – Masrur leaves his little sister in the hallway, _"Stick to being cute, Morgiana."_

)*~*(

Terrifying and Morgiana aren't exactly synonymous. Anyone who knows the red head well would never peg her as scary. The Red Lions were a fearsome clan, their intimidating aura could be felt from miles away. Rarely would the spine-chilling trait be lacking in any Fanalis but Morgiana is a special breed of her kind. Only time will tell whether it be wise to bless or curse her recessive genetics.

Sahsa's fright is not unfounded, Morgiana supposes, but the brunette's pitiful levels of fear were incomparable to the red head's weakened knees. Warning levels of adrenalin, coupled with the rabid pace of Morgiana's drumming heart warrant immediate medical attention. Her ruby eyes wouldn't dare leave Sahsa. Unblinking, they observe every muscle movement, gauging the brunette's next course of action. Morgiana's sharp eyes follow the trembling right hand rising from Sahsa's side. The girl covers her slack lips, muffling her gargled voice, "You…aren't you…?"

Morgiana quells the constricting silence, quietly asking, "Would you like to take a guess?"

Sahsa appears faint, swallowing an incredible lump stuck in her throat with much difficulty, "Princess M-morgiana?"

"Of the Red Lions." Morgiana curtseys flawlessly, surprised she didn't wobble or execute an awkward display as per usual, "It has been the utmost pleasure, Sahsa of _Lightning_."

The brunette barely keeps it together, both her hands concealing her lips, "Y-you're alive?!"

Morgiana makes a show of looking down at herself, "I wish to assume so?"

Sahsa shakes her head, mocha eyes regain their focus on Morgiana's scarlet hair and ruby eyes that clearly whisked the brunette into a mad spiral, "But–!"

"Shh!" Morgiana hushed and Sahsa painfully slaps her lips with both hands, "I would like this secret to remain between us. Please." Seconds pass until the shivering brunette nods dumbly. A wry smile etched its way across Morgiana's face, her worries slowly fading away.

"I just…wow." Sahsa shakes her head again, turning away from the red head, "Is this real…what?" Sahsa's weary eyes meet Morgiana, "You're real, right?"

Morgiana shrugs, "I mean, we have been in each other's company for the past day, we held hands, what more can I do to convince you?"

Sahsa gasps, cupping her right hand in her left as though she suffered a wound, "I…touched royalty. I'm so sorry!"

Morgiana uses every ounce of willpower, refraining from rolling her eyes, "For what?" The red head takes Sahsa's hand without warning, "Look, same human hands. Am I complaining?" Morgiana lets go at the sight of pure shock on Sahsa's features. Was that too forward? Doesn't seems so by the burst of admiration that overtakes the brunette's face.

"You really are Princess Morgiana." Sahsa breathes. Is she cradling her right hand?! To say that Morgiana was a little perturbed by Sahsa's euphoria would be an understatement, "Does Aladdin know?" Sahsa responds to herself before Morgiana could, "Of course he knows Sahsa, they've been travelling together. So is he just your friend or–?"

"Sahsa!" The brunette flinches, her feet practically levitate off the wooden floor, "Could you please remain calm, for one minute. Please." She obediently nods and silence descends once again. Stagnant air fills the enclosed space for exactly sixty seconds until Morgiana breaks the silence, "Thank you."

Sahsa's lips utter the very same words Morgiana figured the brunette would say, "I'm sor–"

"Stop with the apologies, Sahsa. I'm serious." There must be a limit to how many times one can apologize. Sahsa's case is borderline unhealthy, and annoying.

"I–" The brunette covers her mouth with a hand, "Okay."

Morgiana gives Sahsa a small smile, "Good. Now then, I trust you will keep my secret to yourself. Not even your family members can know."

"O-of course!" Sahsa squeaks, nodding ferociously with a panicked expression on her face.

The red head bows low, "Thank you very much, Sahsa. I appreciate everything you and your wonderful family has done for Aladdin and myself."

"We're the ones who are grateful to you and Aladdin, L-lady Morgiana." The red head cringes, Sahsa fails to notice.

"Please, Mor is fine." Morgiana stands upright, "Better than calling me by name in front of others."

"Oh yes!" Sahsa smacks her forehead with a palm, "How could I forget, sor…really nice weather we're having today!"

Morgiana blinks, "I…suppose?" What is Sahsa talking about? They are indoors, the elements have nothing to do with their conversation.

"A-anyway, you were going to try out this dress. Although, someone of your caliber can't be seen wearing something as shoddy as this." Sahsa holds the white fabric out in disdain, "Let me look for something else." Sahsa's concerns about what Morgiana should wear are unnecessary but the brunette runs off to the sparkling racks with haste.

Ruby eyes dart across the room, coming across a black book abandoned on a sandy shelf.

WANTED

Morgiana picks up the volume, breathing in a cloud of dust that makes her cough. Maybe now she can sift through the book in peace. It takes little time to find the page with that mystery girl's foggy credentials. The entries that follow are much older, dated. Morgiana wouldn't be surprised if some of these people have already departed this life. Mostly males, a handful of females, even two or three children with bounties ranging from five gold to twenty thousand. At long last, Morgiana finds the profile she's been itching to see.

 _Dead or Alive_

 _Princess Morgiana Alexius -_ _§ 100,000 G_

Morgiana's internal organs drop.

Slowly, she closes 'Wanted' and packs the bundle on the shelf.

Plucking a folded sheet of parchment out of a tiny pocket on the inside of her tunic, Morgiana compares the image of both wanted posters in her mind. The drawings are identical, from Morgiana's time as the Fanalis Princess. She must be twelve or thirteen, the innocence of adolescence clearly depicted in the timeless illustration. However, the creased poster and 'Wanted' profile differ in one regard: how does a bounty jump from one hundred gold coins to a hundred thousand!

Something else Morgiana notes, she is now enlisted as dead or alive. Even her corpse is a worthy prize in the eyes of that maniac. The red head wonders how many like Sahsa believed her to be deceased. Morgiana eyes the brunette who swiftly returns with another white ensemble, this one crafted with creamy polyester fabric and lacey blue accents along the lower hem. Knee length, frilly sleeves, fitted at the waist with a satin band of pink, plunging v-shaped neckline and a circular silver medallion with three dangling rods of steel as a centerpiece in the chest area. In Sahsa's left hand is an opaque, white silk veil coupled with a magenta chiffon mouthpiece, "This should keep you covered…is something wrong?"

Morgiana shakes her head, folding her parchment into a neat square, "No."

"Okay, well I found the perfect dress for you!" Sahsa approaches Morgiana, holding out the dress in front of the red head's petite body, "The silver chain is detachable and don't let the neckline fool you, it should be just the right fit."

"Can I try the other dress instead?" Morgiana pleads, the latter dress is far too fancy for the red head's simple tastes.

"No!" For once Sahsa asserts herself, why now of all times? "I'm going to give you a wardrobe change you won't soon forget!" Sahsa begins singing a nonsensical tune about clothing Morgiana in the ideal outfit for a princess. The red head found it hard to say no, Sahsa seems so happy and maybe…Morgiana doesn't mind a change in attire. She's worn the same five sets of clothing for three years under Yunan's wing. Morgiana stifles a moan, her feminine side is showing.

The silver pendant is cold against Morgiana's bare skin. Miraculously, Sahsa's dress was the perfect fit, the girl has a keen eye for dress sizes. She didn't lie about the extravagant neckline either, Morgiana was impeccably covered in all the right places and the dress compliments her figure exceptionally well, to the point of self-consciousness.

"Kyaaa!" Sahsa coos like a thrilled child, eyes squeezed shut in excitement, "You look so beautiful!"

A hint of pink radiates off Morgiana's puffed cheeks, "Thank you." She says, embarrassed at the unnecessary attention.

"Now for the veil." Sahsa taps her chin in thought, "Hmm, looks like we'll need to braid your hair so it doesn't show, but your eyes…"

Morgiana tugs on the pink band around her waist, "It should be fine as long as my hair is invisible." Owning either red hair or red eyes is one thing but having both is the purest sign of a Fanalis. Let's hope her veil doesn't fly off.

"Alrighty." Sahsa kneels on the floor, patting the spot in front of her. Morgiana takes a seat with Sahsa at her back. Foreign fingers gently stroke Morgiana's hair, the finer hairs at the base of her neck standing on end, "No offense Mor but your hair is in dire need of a treatment." Morgiana is well aware of how dry her hair has become, this heat has been terrible on her scarlet tresses.

"Be right back." Sahsa leaves the room for a moment, popping back inside with a half empty jar of moisturizing jelly. Every strand of Mogiana's hair is swept into a taut bundle, followed by a cool sensation along her scalp. The brunette starts from the crown of Morgiana's head, combing through tangled locks with careful fingers. She begins on the left, a comb quickly drags through wisps of red, parting a section of hair that Sahsa interweaves expertly. It's familiar, that feeling of having her hair styled by another. Morgiana isn't very good at such intricacies, hence why her hair always flows behind her back. Combing, cooking, and cleaning aren't exactly her strong suit. Yunan usually took care of all their chores, duties she never needed to perform as a princess. When she ponders the thought, Morgiana would make a terrible housewife in the realm of commoners.

"Sahsa." Morgiana summons the brunette's attention, "Have you perchance seen my profile, in 'Wanted'."

"Oh." Sahsa's enthusiasm dips at Morgiana's inquiry, "Yes, I have."

"What do you think of it?" Sahsa remains quiet, "Now that you know my whereabouts?"

Morgiana feels a sharp tug when Sahsa finishes off the miniature braid. She begins another identical plait on the red head's right, "Do you believe I would betray you?"

She frowns, Morgiana never liked it when others would answer questions with another question, "Highly probable, considering the reward." The words left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

"You don't know me very well if that is your answer, we'll need to work on that." Sahsa playfully chides, "A thousand gold coins can never out value the cost of a friend." Morgiana stills, allowing Sahsa's truth filled words a moment to sink in.

"What about one hundred thousand?" The red head taps the floorboards beneath her with a restless finger.

Sahsa's string of giggles were quickly muffled, "Coin may have its value, but a true friend is priceless. Wouldn't you agree?"

 _A friend…_

"I do not recall signing any friendship agreement with you." Morgiana muses, a hint of mirth in her hushed voice.

Sahsa gasps in mock bereavement, "I'm hurt, Mor. How could you say such a thing?"

The brunette ends the right braid, focusing on the middle section. Both the left and right braids join the central plait ending a few inches below Morgiana's shoulders. She is ushered to a full body mirror, taking in her appearance. Tiny silver rings were weaved into a few locks, sparkling alongside the circular pendant attached to the delicious dress. Morgiana couldn't believe she was staring at her actual self. Two hands capture her shoulders, Sahsa grinning widely behind her, "So, what do you think?"

"It's…different." The red head passively rubs her right wrist with her left hand.

Pink distorts Morgiana's vision for a moment as Sahsa places the veil and mouthpiece. Every trace of red hair concealed. The fine material ends at the middle of Morgiana's back, "That should do it. You'll blend right in, Mor."

"I shall trust your word." Morgiana mumbles.

"Don't you look like a bride to be." Sahsa remarks slyly, fixing the fabric in place with a satisfied smile on her lips.

Morgiana fends off a blush, side eyeing the brunette, "Please stop."

Sahsa giggles, "I'm just teasing you, Mor."

"I rather your bumbling mess of an apologetic persona." Morgiana remarks at the lowest volume possible. She needs to keep that aggravation of hers in check.

"What was that?" Sahsa inquires with a raised eyebrow.

Morgiana brushes the brunette off, redirecting the course of their conversation, "Nothing of concern, Sahsa. I merely imagined our roles reversed and you the one wearing this veil on your special day."

"W-w-what are you saying!" Sahsa's blush is beyond extreme, to the point of feigning sickness.

Morgiana dons a perky smile, "You seem like the type who would look forward to their wedding day."

"W-well, yeah…if any man would ever have me." Sahsa has morphed to her reclusive self, shying away from the red head who turns to face the brunette.

Morgiana blames herself for piling a damper on their lighthearted banter. She tries her best to uplift Sahsa's spirits, "Everything in life has its time and purpose. When that time comes for you, Sahsa, I wish you all the best and the abundance of happiness you deserve."

Sahsa's blush still remains, a heartfelt smile erupts on her glowing features, "I thank you for your blessing Mor. I also wish you eternal joy and success in your future pursuits. I can only imagine all the terrible things you've been through and what will come your way, whether good or bad. Just know that if you're ever in need of anything, I'll be there to support you. I'm…not really strong or anything b-but in whatever way I can assist you…b-because I sense a mixture of apprehension and w-withdrawal from your birthright a-and was wondering...but what you plan on doing in this life isn't my concern!"

Morgiana watches the stuttering brunette who shakes her head and was more than likely berating herself on the inside. No appointments or encounters ever happen by coincidence, "Sahsa." The brunette looks up at the red head who genuinely smiles, "I thought we were friends, how could you say that my future endeavors have nothing to do with you. I'm hurt." No, not now. This moment in time is still premature, but some day they shall meet again, "If you must know, I seek to reclaim my throne from the tyrant king." An astounded gasp fills the air, "It's not exactly a wise move when I'm starting from zero but I plan to gather allies, an army that will stand by me when the hour is come to face that mad man and I sincerely hope that you will be one of my chosen few. Strength comes in many forms, Sahsa. I look forward to finding out exactly how that strength manifests in you once you've come to discover it for yourself."

"It…would be the greatest honour, my friend." Sahsa's voice quivers, the brunette on the brink of tears which doesn't match the delightful smile on her face. Her hand settles on Morgiana's right shoulder, "Your crown may tilt, but it will never fall Princess Morgiana." Sahsa pulls Morgiana into the warmest hug, crying into the red head's shoulder for reasons unknown. Morgiana merely pats the sobbing girl on the back, emotions on the rise within her.

Neither girl could tell how much time was spent in that earnest embrace, they both separated at the same moment. Sahsa wipes her face clean with the back of her hand, "Why did I cry, it makes me look ugly."

"Tears are nothing to be ashamed of." Morgiana forces a very recent incident of weeping away from her mind.

Sahsa walks away, rubbing her moist cheeks with both palms, "We're not done yet with your new look." Poking through the trays of jewelry, she returns with a sparkling pair of cuffs, the ones Morgiana had been eyeing earlier, "Here. I noticed your interest in them." Sahsa aids Morgiana in clasping the silver bands at her wrists, their odd weight soon forgotten. The perfect jewels, Morgiana instantly grows fond of them. She taps them together and a dull vibration throbs throughout her skull, piercing her ears. An unpleasant sound, but the cuffs are much more durable than Morgiana expected.

"I'll cherish them. Thank you." Morgiana says, her fingers glossing over the smooth metal finish of the cuffs.

"And I have the perfect shoes in mind." Sahsa darts to the back of the room.

Morgiana speaks loudly with hopes that the brunette hears her, "I'm not exactly a fan of footwear."

"Really?" Sahsa returns with black leg wraps minutes later, "Well you can always try these." With the assistance of Sahsa, the leg wraps hug Morgiana's calves, a fitting final piece to her elegant ensemble. Sahsa claps profusely, grinning at her finished handiwork with pride, "Wait till Aladdin takes a look at you." Morgiana can already imagine the overbearing compliment along with his twinkling eyes, "But are you sure you don't want anything else?"

"I have acquired all I need, thank you Sahsa." Morgiana covers up with her cloak. As much as she loathed the heat, she would rather not garner any unnecessary attention.

Sahsa and Morgiana soon vacate the storeroom, meeting Sahsa's mother as she carries a large basket of clothing from the kitchen to their living quarters, "Hello girls." Sahsa's mother abandons her heavy load on the center table. Caressing her daughter, both smile lovingly at the other. Morgiana's eyes soften, she glances out the open window pondering the time. Her tall shadow covers Morgiana seconds before the older woman unexpectedly swallows the red head in a tight embrace. She didn't flinch, a first. Morgiana's hands hover awkwardly while Sahsa's mother drenches her in a wellspring of maternal affection, "Sorry for my lack of presence, Mor. There is just too much work to be done around here. Has Sahsa been treating you well?"

Chocolate wisps tickle Morgiana's cheeks as Sahsa's mother withdraws. Morgiana answers honestly, "Yes, your daughter has been the perfect hostess."

Sahsa's mother was the picture of pride as she smiles delightfully at her child while Sahsa appears to be the happiest Morgiana's seen her since their first encounter. Her judgement was wise, Morgiana could never take Sahsa away from her family, "Those three should almost be done, would you two mind assisting me?"

"Certainly!" Sahsa chimes in while Morgiana offers a short bob of her head.

)*~*(

Tiny beads of sweat litter her brow as colourless vapour wafts into her face from the giant pot. Spinning, churning, Morgiana twirls the ladle alongside a steady four-four tempo now stuck in her skull. Salted chunks of meat along with vegetables and seasonings dabble in boiling water, following her wooden spoon's circular trail. According to Sahsa, this dish is popular in the south and perfect for patients on bedrest. Morgiana has been stirring the pot for some time now. Sahsa and her mother made no qualms about Morgiana's lack in culinary skills. The pair offered reassuring smiles and useful pointers for future reference. Chopping pumpkin cubes was the worst, Morgiana's knife work needs improvement in more ways than one. No, the worst part of the entire tutorial was adding a pinch of salt into the dumpling dough. If they add that tiny portion of salt, how do they expect to taste it in the food?

At the end of the day, the mother-daughter duo were the masters and Morgiana their humble apprentice. Handling the spices of life is a fine art, executed with precision and flare so the end result is one that's savored by your taste buds. The main idea of their practical lesson was, cooking is exhausting!

If only Morgiana could turn back time and graciously thank all the diligent staff who once slaved in the palace kitchens everyday.

An unexpected hand vies for Morgiana's ladle, "I'll take over Mor, thank you for your help." Morgiana nods, handing Sahsa's mother the warm wooden spoon. At first, the older woman left a poor impression on the red head but Morgiana has begun to see the dedicated mother in a new light, "Could you help Sahsa find some cutlery?"

"Certainly." Sahsa's mother smiles warmly before tuning her attention to the broiling stew.

Morgiana finds her newfound friend at the other end of the kitchen, hunched over in search of ceramic bowls inside a small cupboard. The girls take little time washing and drying a short stack of bowls along with stainless metal spoons. Sahsa opens yet another hidden door in the kitchen, revealing a serene campsite directly behind the mystical caravan. A sky blue tarp, harnessed across a quartet of trees, shades the camp where freshly chopped tree stumps make up nature's finest dining décor.

A hard day's work transitions into a lazy afternoon. Morgiana enjoys every peaceful moment, quietly observing everyone seated around camp, reveling in each other's company while feasting on the greatest soup Morgiana's ever had the honour of eating. Tears formed as she ate the meal with gusto, Morgiana hopes no one noticed. Day's smooth transition into nightfall arrives far quicker than anticipated. Dishes scrubbed, logwood stowed away and the cackling fire hissed on its way out. Bouncing with a spring in his step is Aladdin, stalking Sahsa's shadow like a starving bird of prey. His anxiety on clear display, it was his turn to venture into the storage room and peruse the shop. While the kind brunette and energetic alchemist seal themselves behind the storeroom's secret entrance, Morgiana retreats to their room.

She sheds her cloak, glad to relieve herself of that unnecessary layer. Finding the powder room, Morgiana freshens up with a clean washcloth so graciously extended to her by Sahsa's mother. Her former clothing items will need a soak, especially that suffocating cloak. Morgiana returns to the room, packing all her belongings, minus her cloak, inside her bulging bag.

Mental note, invest in a new backpack.

Unraveling the folded cloak sparks an intriguing thought. Fiddling with the fuchsia band around her middle, Morgiana tucks her half-folded cloak over the pink waistband, allowing the scarlet fabric to free fall behind her lower back and either side of her hips. Smoothly twirling around, she adores the lightweight addition to her skirt. Charmed, Morgiana had no words to describe the exuberance that suddenly took over, as short lived as it was. So this must be the giddy feeling attached to accessorizing an ensemble. Morgiana can finally relate to Sahsa's earlier excitement, tapping into the girlish persona she never knew existed.

Morgiana sits at the edge of the bed, her thoughts wandering. If Sahsa had turned sour on her, what would Morgiana have done? Its unnerving to think of future encounters, whether they will be favourable or otherwise.

"Mor, are you there?" The door turns slightly.

Morgiana ceased her swinging feet at the sound of Aladdin's voice, "Yes."

He enters the room, practically singing, "I need to show you-" Aladdin trails off.

Morgiana raises her head, curious to source the cause of her best friend's odd pause. She tilts her head sideways, ruby eyes drawn in question, "Is something wrong?"

Aladdin shakes his head rapidly, confusing Morgiana even further. Her brother rarely gets flustered, "No." He says, brushing off Morgiana's accusing eyes, "I'm perfectly fine, and would you like to know why?" His awkward air evaporates in an instant. Aladdin smoothly strikes a condescending pose with folded arms, smiling smugly as though Morgiana will never guess he too received a wardrobe change.

Morgiana looks thoughtful, making a show of innocently tapping her chin, "Ah, I see." She points at her brother, "Your braid is slightly leaning to the right!"

Aladdin glances down at his long blue braid draped over his right shoulder. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, slapping the plait behind his back. Morgiana refuses to hold back her laugh, Aladdin smiles wryly, "I'm glad you found that amusing Mor."

"I also perform pity laughs, when the need arises of course." His fake smile twitches. Morgiana rises, the silver pieces near her chest chittering in mirth-filled agreement.

"And all this time I thought you were my sister." He pouts but the smile in his eyes says otherwise.

Morgiana casts all teasing aside, glancing up and down Aladdin's frame, "Not bad." The white and blue robe fits Aladdin perfectly. Loose but snug, a cord of red revolves around Aladdin's waist, small golden hoops hanging from either end. A slight glimpse of Aladdin's lean chest has Morgiana observing the royal blue fabric extending below his knees. Her final sweep hones in on a glittery oval shaped garnet gem sitting on his forehead.

Aladdin glances up at the object of Morgiana's attention, "Oh, Sahsa picked it out for me. It's a little extra but I couldn't say no."

Morgiana's smile is small, she fully understands how hard it is to deny sweet Sahsa, "It looks good, suits you."

Aladdin grins in thanks, "You look nice too Mor." He mutters shyly, scratching the back of his head. Morgiana smiles, a little too much, her thank you barely audible. The blue haired alchemist's smile droops suddenly, his eyes set on Morgiana's stare, "Although…" Concern buds on his youthful features.

"What is it?" Aladdin's worry infects Morgiana, working its way into her voice.

Aladdin shakes his head, "Nothing." He suddenly paces the room, nibbling on his right thumb. He's troubled.

Morgiana takes a seat. When Aladdin falls into this state, there is no chance of getting an honest answer out of him. Three soft knocks echo off the walls, interrupting Aladdin's gait, "Its Sahsa. May I enter?"

"Sure." Aladdin says and Sahsa slips inside.

"Sorry to disturb." The brunette takes a seat next to Morgiana, curiously eyeing the red head's skirt enhancement.

Aladdin waves her off, his previous thoughts all but forgotten, "No worries."

Sahsa claps her hands, sitting up with a straightness Morgiana could never hope to achieve, "I forgot to mention something very crucial earlier. We are a few hours away from the capital and should be arriving at the border by dawn." The news is bittersweet, for more reasons than one. Morgiana has yet to formulate a plan of action for their entry, "Going through the screening procedure is a must, there's no avoiding it."

Morgiana nods calmly, "Understood. So what happens if you are identified as an undesirable?"

Sahsa shakes her head, apologetic, "Try not to think about it."

Morgiana sighs, nodding to herself. What a ticklish situation, "Tell us more." Aladdin's stare flickers from Sahsa to Morgiana, probably surprised the girls were on such friendly terms, "Will caravans be searched separately from their owners or…?"

"People and their caravans are searched separately, yes. The procedure is near identical, it's just…unless…" Sahsa's sights settle on her feet. She gasps, brown eyes widening and her head shoots up, "What if…but then…"

"What are you thinking?" Aladdin descends onto the mattress on Morgiana's left, leaning on his sister's uninjured shoulder.

Sahsa shakes her head, a dramatic lack of confidence appearing on her broken countenance, "Not to worry, it's a dumb plan anyway."

"Enlighten us." Morgiana encourages, poking Sahsa with an elbow, "A dumb plot is better than no plot at all."

Sahsa hugs her arms, unsure of herself, "Well…okay." Her voice is deathly silent, "There is a hidden space beneath the floorboards in the main room with a hatch leading to the outside. I was thinking…you could use that exit to sneak out once we clear border security."

"Sahsa, that's perfect!" Aladdin jumps onto his feet, taking the brunette by her shoulders with a bright beaming grin. Morgiana's smile is much more subtle. This is exactly the route they needed.

"Almost perfect." Sahsa casts a dampening spell on the atmosphere, "You see, guards stationed at the border do checks on your person themselves but cargo and personal items are screened via Portalis."

"Portalis?" Aladdin raises the question, eyes twinkling in wonder. Morgiana has never heard the term either.

Sahsa flicks stray strands of hair away from her eyes, "That's right. They are common in larger cities like _Fire_ 's capital and Water Kingdom, giant glowing rings that dissect objects passing through them. Depending on what is detected, Portalis change in colour so the guards have an idea as to what might be lurking inside…let's say our caravan. Based on that, they decide if a thorough search is necessary."

Aladdin's dazed eyes stare into empty space, head leaning right in thought, "Do you know exactly how Portalis function, in terms of their power source?"

"Well…" Sahsa muses, slightly shifting her weight to her left side, "I think Oji-ji once mentioned Portalis are fueled by the Essence of Life."

The alchemist's head rocks from side to side, his closed eyes scrunching in dismay, "Mmm…do Portalis pinpoint exactly what passes through or do they respond in a more general sense?"

Sahsa blinks, Morgiana breaks the silence, "How sensitive or accurate are Portalis readings?" Aladdin has a plan in mind, Morgiana is certain of that. He must be weighing probabilities.

Aladdin continues where Morgiana left off, "If we were inside the caravan while it goes through the Portalis for instance, would we be identified as 'human' or simply 'living matter'?"

"Hmm…I believe living matter?" Sahsa didn't sound sure, "All I know is, if anything living is detected the caravan will be searched. Extensively."

Aladdin's thoughtful visage crumbles, replaced by a sneaky smile. There he goes, scheming once again. Morgiana studies her brother with raised brows, "Are we cheating the system, brother?"

"We're cheating the system, sister." Aladdin nods in affirmation, smiling brighter than the desert sun. He'll be the death of Morgiana someday.

)~*~(

In a short-lived blink, the night hours faded away, replaced by a new dawn beyond the caravan's wooden walls. Morgiana stretches out her limbs before ripping the covers off Aladdin's curled body. He doesn't stir. She isn't startled by the door's tired moan, Sahsa steps inside. Morgiana shuffles onto her feet, rolling her stiff shoulders. Her injured one has healed nicely, a little tender but Morgiana isn't dying.

"Good morning. It's now or never, I've already distracted everyone." Voice laced with haste, Sahsa's brown eyes reflect a hint of panic, of guilt.

Morgiana frowns, "I really am sorry again. I hope we provided enough coin to cover the damages."

Sahsa waves it off with a half smile, "No worries, Mor. Stop apologizing." She giggles and Morgiana's lips twitch, upturning slightly.

A sharp snore diverts their attention. Morgiana scowls at her little brother, Sahsa chuckles in amusement, "I'll really miss you both."

"As will we." Morgiana extends her arms, Sahsa follows suit in a heartwarming embrace, "Confidence, Sahsa. Confidence."

Sahsa mumbles, "I could say the same to you, Morgiana. Hope all goes well on your journey."

"Your uncle was right, about the state of this world." Morgiana leans back, hands grasping Sahsa's wrists firmly, "Horrible things are happening, have happened and will continue to happen, but when you find the right people, indulging in life's precious moments together makes living just a tiny bit sweeter."

"Aww!" Aladdin flies off the cot, grabbing them both in a tight hug. He hits the ground seconds later, every trace of breath knocked out of him by Morgiana's furious elbow to his belly.

"Sorry!" "Aladdin, are you alright?!" Morgiana and Sahsa each take an arm, hoisting the winded alchemist to his feet.

"There isn't much time left." Sahsa states once Aladdin assures them he didn't suffer any broken ribs.

Grabbing their packs and donning their cloaks, the trio noiselessly rush out of the room and into the caravan's main living quarters. Sahsa sweeps aside the brilliant rosy rug from one corner to the room's center. The brunette is on her knees, crawling along the floorboards when she finds the secret hatch. Four fingers dig into a caramel coloured board, Sahsa slides the board downwards and the entrance opens, "Get in, quickly!" Aladdin is first, crawling through the trapdoor while Morgiana stares with hitched breath. Shaking her head, pink replaces the imperial red rug and light floods the secret compartment below. She quells that overwhelming ache in her chest and slithers inside, "Be safe, my friends. Take care." Sahsa closes the hatch hurriedly, "They're gone!" Her panicked cry grows distant, as do Sahsa's soundless footsteps.

Morgiana is thankful for the glowing lamp embedded in the crawlspace's roofing. Cramped, quiet, there's barely room for two people inside. Luckily Morgiana and Aladdin are somewhat petite, their endurance is but for a time. Slinking forward on coordinated forearms and knees, Morgiana joins Aladdin at the far end of the low space where their escape route resides. According to Sahsa, pushing on the square outline will force it open. The incline is designed to spring upwards when weight isn't holding it down and there is no possible means of entry from the outside.

Shuffling feet, growing heat, Aladdin's steady breaths, squawking tires. Morgiana's senses are everywhere, anxiously anticipating the moment they arrive on the capital's doorstep, "Hey, Mor." Sharp ruby eye flick to her right. Aladdin's in a far worse position within the crawlspace than Morgiana was, on account of those long limbs of his, yet the alchemist was able to summon one of his spherical toys, "Bet I can reopen the hatch once we slip through with Iron." He remarks cheekily, squeezing the malleable metal ball. Morgiana is unimpressed, Aladdin knows she is unimpressed, "Although, after that fight with Kohl, it's been demagnetized significantly." His hand glows white but the chunk of metal remains the same.

Morgiana frowns, eyebrows knit together, "Kohl?"

"The scary man with yellow eyes." Aladdin's iron ball vanishes when pure honesty covers the alchemist's smiling face, "You were fighting for dear life, I know, but how could you not stop to appreciate those perfectly done wings?" When Aladdin says Kohl, did he mean… "They were identical, even his eyebrows were flawless."

Wandering back to that moment before he was handed over at the sentry station, Kohl's glare wasn't the only terrifying thing about his eyes. Those dark lashes would put any female to shame, Morgiana included. Thankfully, the red head has no dealings with cosmetics so she has yet to lose in battle against Kohl… Drakohl…Drakon!

"Now I know the perfect gift for next year's birthday." Morgiana teases.

Greed glazes Aladdin's sapphire eyes. His face inches closer…and closer, "Pure Sodium?"

Morgiana hides her discomfort seamlessly, reminding herself that her brother's passions are…different from ordinary humans, "Sometimes I worry about you." What psychotic experiments would he attempt if Aladdin were ever to find the fleeting object of his desires?

"Likewise, Mor." His boyish grin returns.

"Spell demagnetized." Morgiana envisioned the frown before it stretches across Aladdin's face, "You used it correctly in a sentence just now."

Aladdin groans, "Can't you pick another word?"

"Spell it." Morgiana presses, earning a shrewd eye from her brother.

He huffs, eyes soaring to the floorboards above, "D-E-M-A…G…magnet, N-E-T…uhh…I…Z-E-D! Demagnetized!" His exclamation was just beyond a whisper.

The caravan stops sharply, Aladdin's head hits the low roof and he painfully moans, "Are you alright?" She asks with worry.

"Been through worse. I live with you, remember?" Spared, only by Morgiana's inability to jab him with her elbow.

Muted voices buzz above them, followed by four…five pairs of feet marching across the floorboards and out of earshot. They must be at the border. The caravan moves forward but not by its own strength. Apprehension buds in the air. Morgiana could taste her brother's crippling anxiety. "It will be okay." She whispers and Aladdin meets her confident eyes. If only she felt as assuredly as outward appearances let on.

Cobalt bursts into the crawlspace without warning, blinding, paralyzing them both. A glowing blue line drifts across their bodies from temple to toe, undaunted as it disappears into the wooden wall at the opposite end of the compartment. Silence hung between them, neither Aladdin nor Morgiana making a sound, neither breathing.

They pause.

Two pairs of hefty feet provoke the caravan to creaking anger, "…else inside?"

"No...of us." Morgiana could faintly hear voices above, straining with her ear pressed against the crawlspace's thick ceiling.

Sauntering footfalls, shifting furniture, doors and cupboards opening, "…someone…sure there…any stowaways onboard?"

"Not at all!" One of Sahsa's uncles replied, a twinge of fear in his voice.

"It must be the ardor termites!" Confidence weaves into Sahsa's resounding yell, unbefitting her timid character.

"Sahsa, quiet." Her mother hissed, low and threatening.

"But–"

Sahsa's words are silenced by her grandfather's crackling baritone, "Sahsa could be right, the nest's already taken over the kitchen and flooring. We collected some logwood yesterday, sir. Must've smuggled in a hive without noticing." Very decent observation on his part, one that is partially true.

The ardor termites were a risky ruse. Morgiana admits she has her doubts about this plan. Aladdin was the true mastermind behind it all. He found the termite's nest inhabiting a half dead tree stump during the course of his logwood harvesting adventure and – somebody please help this child – stole a portion of it. For research purposes, he said. What research purposes!?

Aladdin planted the captured termites inside the storage hold for their logwood supply. Ardor termites are ghastly white, tricky little pests. They breed as quickly as they eat and their appetite is insatiable. Veins spring up from their haunting grounds in a matter of hours. If left unchecked they will devour the caravan beyond recognition, which is the main reason why Morgiana was against her brother's 'ingenious' plot. Repaying Sahsa's kindness with pestilence inflicted on her family's livelihood is not the sendoff Morgiana desired.

"How long do you and your family plan on staying?" Their interrogator inquires.

"Just four days, sir."

Shredding paper, stomping boots, "Make that seven. We will have your caravan transported to quarantine until you can flush out that nest. We can't issue clearance to set up shop unless the termites are taken care of." Morgiana's heart leaped. The quarantine bay, just as Sahsa said.

"We understand, thank you."

Burdens are lifted as both guards leave the caravan's interior. Mogiana is certain she heard Sahsa's long sigh of relief. The caravan lurches forward, time is upon them. She wakes her sleeping muscles, at the ready for Sahsa's signal. Aladdin has already positioned himself so he could crawl out first. While on their way to the quarantine bay, Sahsa will cause a distraction so her grandfather stops the caravan. Aladdin and Morgiana make their way out and dash to their right, an open alleyway should be waiting for them. The caravan's position will act as the perfect blind spot so they can sneak away and the sentries will be none the wiser. Still, there are so many unknown variables. Someone could be in the alleyway right this instant. Hidden guards could be tailing this cargo hold unbeknownst.

"Sis." Morgiana's stare connects with Aladdin's, his smile reassuring, "Nothing beats a try." Morgiana swallows, he's right. Her short nod was just the answer he wanted. Aladdin's hands gently drum atop the escape hatch, "And if they do catch us, we both know there's no way they'll take us down without a fight."

"Very true." Morgiana is frightened to think of what would happen if her emotional filter becomes unhinged. If anyone _ever_ threatens to take Aladdin away…

"Agh!" Sahsa's scream compliments a hard blow to the floor, "Ah…oww." She hissed sharply, followed by three taps to the floorboards. The caravan halts abruptly.

Now's their chance!

"Sahsa!" "Is she bleeding?"

Aladdin is already outside as Morgiana's silent prayer comes to an end. She follows her little brother and the hatch like a starved alligator's jaw snaps shut.

 _'See You Again, Friend.'_

Dust is all Morgiana could see at first, she mistakenly inhales a cloud of sand that clings to her eyes and throat. She hacks, coughing, clawing out from under the caravan. She hopes she went right instead of left. A hand takes her forearm and Morgiana appreciates Aladdin hauling her out from underneath the caravan. They sprint down the alley without turning back, not that Morgiana could cast a final glance at the bronze and beige wagon.

Aladdin slows after sprinting for a long time, forcing Morgiana to do the same and he loosens his hold on her arm. Breathless, Aladdin wheezes beside her. Morgiana blinks some sand out of her eyes, careful she doesn't irritate them further, "Open…your hands, Mor." She follows his instruction blindly. Warm liquid slowly runs down her hands. Morgiana washes them, cupping her hands while water pools within them. Rinsing out her ruby eyes, she blinks in rapid succession.

The alchemist guzzles down the remaining water in his metal canister, sighing contentedly. Unlike Aladdin's blithe nature, Morgiana's senses prickle in anticipation. This area seems deserted, simple low-rise buildings and interwoven alleyways. A residential community perhaps. Morgiana looks to the sky, shielding her exposed face with a hand. The sun is out with a vengeance. Morgiana can already feel beads of sweat conglomerating at the base of her neck. Aladdin sheds his cloak first and Morgiana does the same, adding the rich fabric to her ensemble. There was no avoiding her father's sword pommel poking out at her side. The alchemist fiddles with the strap of his satchel, "So we made it, what next?"

It should be mid-morning. As much as Morgiana wishes to explore, something else takes top priority, "We find shelter first. An affordable inn should suffice."

"Alright," Aladdin nods, storing his water bottle inside his satchel, "Sounds like a plan."

Strolling through the alleyway was uneventful. Silence gripped the area and not many people were outdoors. Narrower walkways diverged from the winding pathway but Morgiana and Aladdin decided on sticking to this main passageway. After what felt like an hour's worth of walking, the sounds of commotion stirred Morgiana's senses. What appears to be a major street is up ahead, passersby could be seen pulling carts while flocks of energetic children race amidst the dust. Morgiana wrinkles her nose, her senses have grown stale in these desert conditions and she would be lying if she said she wasn't irritated by that fact. Aladdin has been unusually quiet, Morgiana glances behind her. He was ten paces away, gawking as a floating sphere of sand circles his head. He dematerializes the ball, surprised to find Morgiana staring after him, "Sorry Mor."

"That's okay." She shrugs. There was no need to apologize, they're on this journey together. It's not a one woman show, contrary to popular belief.

Morgiana faces forward, stepping out of the alley where she barely dodged an incoming pedestrian. Luckily, he saw her before a collision could happen. Morgiana was speechless under the simmering, strawberry pink gaze of the tall, red haired man standing before her. Knitted together were his thin eyebrows that pull apart as his scowl smoothly lessens into neutrality, "Excuse me." His clipped tone matched his sharp features – and even sharper goatee – as the toned man strides past Morgiana with a binder in hand. Her red eyes trail the brooding figure arraying in fine attire. He is of noble descent, or at the very least has enough coin to appear as such.

Aladdin crumbles Morgiana's gaze as he takes her by the shoulders, shaking his distracted sister from side to side, "Mor! Mor!"

"What is it?" She inquires as Aladdin's chin overlooks her left shoulder.

"Can't we go browsing before finding a place to stay?" He pleads.

Morgiana knows Aladdin well enough to know his question was incoming, "There's nothing preventing us from doing both at the same time." Aladdin releases Morgiana. He was just about jumping for joy when, "However, our top priority is sourcing an inn. We can shop at a later date."

"That's okay." Aladdin is pleased with the results regardless.

Stalls and open caravans were bustling with business as vendors engaged their potential buyers, promising the best deals and highest quality materials they could offer. If there was any illustration 'The Book of Magi' captured correctly, it would be the denizens of the Fire Kingdom.

They all dazzle.

All of them.

Enamoring smiles, no blemishes, finely tuned bodies and elegant – albeit scanty – clothing. They all radiate like the fierce desert sun above. Morgiana tries not to focus on anyone for too long, lest someone feel her stare. She keeps a close eye on her brother while memorizing her surroundings.

Aladdin hops from shop to shop, ogling at anything foreign his sights land on. All the while Morgiana's progression is sluggish, ruby eyes searching for signs of an inn around this area. It would be wise to settle in a place where resources are readily–

 _Boom!_

Sand erupts from the earth and a towering mountain forms at the end of the street. Commotion, confusion fills the street, coupled by the frantic shouts of pedestrians and an unidentifiable cacophony of noise.

Morgiana spots them afar off. A small band of individuals emerged from the dust, running wildly down this once peaceful road. Faces covered with cloth, they all wore white, standing out amongst the crowd parting hastily in the group's swift wake. Some are misfortunate enough to be in their way, carelessly shoved to the ground with little remorse. Morgiana quickly finds Aladdin, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the mouth of the closest alleyway.

Out of the pillar of thinning sand, something glitters like an amber jewel. Morgiana squints to see the flickering mass of…vermillion flames…

Shooting down the deserted street, a gigantic fireball zooms towards the fleeing, white robed group. Another form takes shape at the center of the roaring inferno.

It's…human.

A boy, scarcely scraping the surface of twenty, leads the fireball's unhindered charge. Short, platinum blond hair frames his face while a strand or two flutter out of place. A concentrated glare plays on his smooth visage, those golden brown eyes striking. Decked in a pair of navy blue cargo trousers and a grey muscle tee, his tastes in clothing have some form of decency unlike the barebacked fellows prancing about the place.

"Mor." She felt someone nudge her left shoulder but there was no escaping the resilient trance thrilling her entangled soul.

In awe, she gawks at the approaching boy. His hands, charred black as they expel an impossible stream of fire, point downwards and he skyrockets in a spectacular display of flames and flare. The blond soars over his targets, free falling through the air and he safely lands before their intended path with a final burst of fire to slow his decent. The four figures cautiously step back as the boy draws a silver shortsword, his form poised, at the ready.

"Is that…?"

"What is _he_ doing here?"

Alarmed gasps and murmurings charge the already tense atmosphere.

Two out of the four robed runaways have weapons drawn while the others spring for the nearest exits. The armed foes make beelines towards the blond whose left hand combusts in a split second.

Fire.

Fire from his hands…

The blond's glowing hand swipes across his blade, transforming silver into a massive, black claymore.

Fire…literal fire!

The Essence.

Her fingers are quivering. Morgiana balls her shaking hands into fists.

The boy charges at the pair, parrying the swipe of a knife followed by the stab of a longsword.

White enters her vision, stunning Morgiana out of the blond boy's snare. Too late to react, she's swatted aside by one of the escaping targets. A pang far worse than her former shoulder pain explodes at Morgiana's temples as her head collides with the wall on her right. She slides down the building with an inaudible gasp bubbling in her throat. Black fogs her vision and Morgiana's head is beating like mad. A sudden urge to fall asleep takes over her mind but she quickly shakes it off.

No, don't lose consciousness.

"…or!" That voice…Aladdin. Where is he?

Morgiana blinks, looking up to see a bright sky above. Too bright. She closes her eyes.

No!

Trembling. Her fingers are trembling. Why?

She strokes the side of her head where she collided with the wall. No blood, a good sign. A frightened yelp cries out close by.

Then silence.

Morgiana blinks the darkness completely out of her sights, tracing Aladdin's blurry outline that slowly comes into focus. A metal sphere revolves around his body, the alchemist's attention elsewhere. Morgiana pushes herself up on her hands but instantly falls back.

"Here."

Dark spots appear and fade, dispersing in the light of a radiant being who extends a helping hand to her.

The blond boy.

Concern creases his features that study Morgiana keenly. Their candid intensity dispels the muddled haze overcasting her head, increasing Morgiana's self-consciousness tenfold.

Standing mere inches away, one of The Gifted. The Essence of Fire, right within her grasp…

His hand awaits Morgiana's response. Singed, steam lazily wafts off his fingers. His hand must be really warm. How warm does it feel?

She reaches for his hand…

Another takes her forearm by surprise. Morgiana's eyes dart to her brother as he pulls her up, "Are you alright?"

Standing on her feet takes adjusting to, "I will be alright, thanks." The throbbing of her head has dulled, if only her heart could do the same.

The blond boy claps black dust off his hands smoothly, "You hit your head pretty hard, are you sure you don't need a physician?"

He was watching her?!

"Uh…fine. I am fine, thank you." Morgiana's nerves are slowly breaking down, why did she stutter?

The blond smiles like a champion, his eyes soften to liquid gold, "That's relieving to hear."

"Uh…huh." Somebody, please strike Morgiana dead right now. She has never felt so embarrassed!

The boy's attention has lifted from the red head. He extends a hand to Aladdin, "Thanks for your assistance. We wouldn't have caught him without you."

Morgiana failed to notice the unconscious body, carried away by a pair of sentries until now. Aladdin takes the blond's hand, shaking it once before letting go. Her brother shrugs, "No problem." Apathetic sapphires drift from the blond to Morgiana. Aladdin's frown deepens and Morgiana casts him a confused stare.

"Blue hair…are you two visiting from a different territory?" The blond inquires innocently.

Aladdin offers a small smile, a forced one, "Yes, we are visiting your Kingdom for a few days. My sister and I were trying to source an inn when all the commotion started. Is that something common in the capital?"

The blond boy shakes his head dejectedly, sighing, "As of late, thefts are occurring more frequently…but there is no need to fear. Our sentinels are highly skilled and bred for far worse than petty crimes. We are working to ensure the safety of our citizens, as well as visitors." His sparkling smile returns, "Also, if you are searching for an inn, may I recommend The Yambala?" The boy swipes nonexistent sweat off his brow…or was he brushing hair out of his face? "Their prices are reasonable and security is tight, you can't go wrong. It's located just at the end of this street. Head north until you cross an intersection and the inn will be at the corner with a guard stationed outside."

"Thanks, we'll be sure to check it out." Aladdin responds. Morgiana can sense her brother's apprehension, but why?

"Alright then. Do enjoy the rest of your time in the Fire Kingdom." The blond winks at Morgiana, his suave smile emblazoned in her memory as he turns around and heads towards the troupe of guards swarming the street.

The Essence…

The Essence is real!

It's real!

Morgiana needs to have it.

She needs to have him!

"Mmm…someone's a smitten kitten." Aladdin sings into Morgiana's ear.

She careens backwards, scowling unpleasantly at her best friend before rolling her eyes, "Please, spare me that ludicrous garbage."

"But who knew we'd be so lucky to spot a Gifted so easily, they must be all over the place. I'm sure we'll find the right one if we keep looking." Morgiana casts a questioning eye at her brother.

Her head tilts slightly, "You have a problem with the one we just met?"

"Uh, something about him just…kind of rubs me the wrong way." Aladdin scratches the back of his head, "I…can't explain it."

"Okay, if you feel that way then…we can keep looking." Morgiana has yet to find the right words to say. The object of this quest was in the palm of her hand and all she did was sputter incoherent sentences.

Aladdin nods, grinning, "But first, our number one priority is finding an inn, right?" Morgiana nods, holding onto her pounding head, "Oh yes, your head." A vial filled with a creamy liquid pops out of thin air, Aladdin catches it, "Drink this, lets hope it's not a concussion."

They both agreed on checking out the inn recommended by that very pleasant young man, she just hopes his suggestion does not lead to their undoing. Morgiana wished she had asked for his name. That way, she would have some form of lead into finding him again.

Morgiana respects her best friend's opinions – from the bottom of her heart – but her intuition burns brightly at the recollection of that blond boy.

It's him, he is the one.

"There, and that should be the guard." Aladdin points out, leading the way towards the three-tier building sitting neatly at the street corner as the blond boy mentioned.

 _YAMBALA_

A large golden sign glinted atop the grey painted inn, brown wild vines decorating its dreary exterior. Like many of the other buildings they passed, the inn's structure seems to be constructed from rammed earth, sturdy as stone yet difficult to reproduce. As if he noticed Morgiana and Aladdin's scrutiny of the unimpressive lodging, the guard approaches with a charming smile and an air of welcome. He appears to be Morgiana's age, shrill vocals, baby-faced but his toned stature make up for his apparent immaturity. Morgiana wonders how well he wields the sword attached to his belt, "Only two hundred silvers a night, and one fifty for couples." He wiggles his nicely done eyebrows suggestively. Morgiana shivers.

"Two hundred silvers." Aladdin whistles, "That's…affordable."

Morgiana glances up at the inn, noting the lack of windows, the lack of escape routes, by what she can tell, "Two hundred silvers covers what exactly?"

The guard grins, tilting his head sideway with folded, meaty arms while his dark locks, bound in a tall pony tail, spill over his right shoulder, "Room, meals, happy hour from six till seven, access to our Ultra Lounge – open from five…until."

The Yambala doubles as both lodgings and a tavern, meaning the grounds are open to blurry types in the night hours. Will they really be safe?

"So that'll be…three gold for two nights." Aladdin calculates mentally, rubbing his chin in thought.

"We'll take it." Morgiana nods at her brother, patting him on the back as a sign that he calculated the cost correctly.

The guard beams, hands on her…his hips, "Tell the old hag inside Otto's the one who helped you."

"Sure, thanks Otto." Aladdin remarks, waving kindly at the sentry.

"Not a problem, glad to be of service!" Otto pushes the front gates open, ushering them onto the property. Morgiana couldn't help but examine his thin yet muscled arm, Otto's slightly feminine face and his impeccably clean shave, those elaborate black locks. His powerful stride commands attention and rosy red armour clings to his lithe frame. Otto gestures upwards with the sweep of his arm to the arc entranceway, a short flight of steps lined with blooming roses awaits, "Right this way."

"Thanks again." Aladdin pulls out a gold coin from his robes, handing it to Otto. The guard swiftly sinks the coin into his boot.

"But of course." A secret smile emerges on the guard's face, one that Aladdin doesn't see. The alchemist was already walking up the stairs with Morgiana at their base. She walks past the guard when a hand coils around her wrist. In two seconds, Morgiana grabs the guard by his own slender wrist, yanking him forward so they were face to face. Otto was taller but Morgiana had no problems in asserting her bold presence with narrowed eyes and her father's sword to the guard's throat. Otto's smirk reflects in his obsidian eyes, "Feisty little thing, aren't you." He draws an unexpected steel dagger away from Morgiana's abdomen, releasing her wrist and she does the same, sheathing her sword. Otto makes a show of blowing a kiss to the red head who refused the revolting guard the time of day, proceeding up the steps to the lodging's interior, "See you soon, my little kitten."

Morgiana fends off a snarl, stomping up the stairs where Aladdin turns around, noticing her absence, "There you are Mo–" Her best friend reels backwards, turning pale.

"What?" Morgiana inquires lowly, Aladdin furiously shakes his head.

She could still feel the disgusting gaze of that putrid guard at the bottom of the stairs. Otto best be careful this 'little kitten' does not gouge his eyeballs out.

Morgiana enters first, assaulted by the scent of cinnamon. A grand foyer with greyscale décor populates the deserted lobby. Grey walls, grey carpeting and a golden chandelier dangles from the ceiling. A bar sits at the opposite end of the chamber, to its right a long flight of stairs. Behind the bar is a dwarf, elderly woman, leaning on her folded arms besides a jar of burning incense.

"Hello." The woman snaps upward, at attention. She squints before a neutral expression crosses her aged features. Aladdin offers a wide smile, the woman eyes him, studies him, "My companion and I wish to spend a few nights. How many?" Aladdin glances at Morgiana standing on his right side.

"Four days should suffice." If not, it would be in their best interest to find another shelter. Settling in one spot for far too long is unwise.

The woman says nothing, her hard gaze shifts to Morgiana and widens in surprise. Morgiana turns away in an instant, leaving the bar and pacing about the room while Aladdin excavates the inside of his satchel for coins. The elder woman's face simmered with recognition, Morgiana prays that was not the case. Their stay at The Yambala might be shorter than originally intended.

"Got the key." Aladdin jiggles the large ring near Morgiana's ear and she quickly dashes away from the irritating noise. A singular key along with a metal card inscribed with a large silver five descend from the rusty ring, "We're on the second floor."

Aladdin leads the way up the flight of stairs, "Thanks." He waves the old woman who doesn't respond. Her icy gaze has thawed out but her scrutiny remains on display. Morgiana nods without making eye contact, following the alchemist. They arrive on the second flat with a third looming above them if they so desired to keep going. A wide hallway separates the odd numbered rooms from the even ones, room number five sitting neatly at the hallway's corner. Twelve rooms total.

"I wonder if they're still serving breakfast." Aladdin wiggles the key around the lock and a small _click_ touches Morgiana's ears.

"I highly doubt it." Aladdin pushes open the door, making way for Morgiana who steps inside first.

Two windows and a balcony with a full scale view of the area, excellent. Aladdin joins the red head in the terrace just as she leaves. No time for that now.

"Woah, what a view!" Aladdin gasps, "This definitely is the ideal place for us. You can see everything. Okay Mor, so now that we found an inn, what next?"

The shower door slams shut with a grey sign reading 'Do Not Disturb' hanging from the silver doorknob.

)*~*(

What a long day. Too long. Tiresome meetings, that squabble near the marketplace. To top it all off, he has a monster of a migraine. He sighs, running a hand through his short, blond hair. He's fairly certain he just heard his bed calling from behind the tall, ornate door separating them. Entering his rooms never felt so relieving. Darkness claims him as he steps inside, along with a strong hand that pulls his entire body in. The door bangs shut in the same instance as air escapes his lungs. Sandwiched between the cold door at his back and the warm body pressed against him stuns his already deluded mind.

"You're back." Her saccharine voice floods his ear where she leans in close, cascading locks gently brush his shoulder and neck. The talon of fright taking hold of his heart lets go. Not this again.

He takes her by the shoulders, willing the wicks across his rooms awake. Candlelight overpowers darkness, exposing all things hidden, including intruders. Just when he was about to collapse into his sheets, "You're here. Why?"

A rebellious glint twinkles in her eyes, "I have my reasons." Smooth hands roam down his arms, a gentle touch coupled with the glistening expectation in her eyes makes him swallow. She'll be the death of him.

His hands capture hers in an unbreakable hold, one that drags her hands to her sides, "Work must be slow if you have time to waste on me."

She droops her head to one side, black locks follow suit. He pictures the glossy smirk adorning her curled lips now covered with a dark satin cloth, "Time is never wasted while I'm with you."

"Okay then. It's been fun." He spins her around. The cold hearth ignites with a resounding crackle at his command, "I need rest for tomorrow and you need to get back before someone calls for you."

A bubbly giggle leaves her throat, "My reputation is hurt. You know how much I enjoy keeping you up all night long."

Her deliberate emphasis on those words makes him shove her towards the fireplace. Without missing a step, she twirls around on barren heels, golden bangles on both wrists chime in harmony with the matching medallions hanging from her carmine ensemble. A playful pout, he imagines, has taken shape on her veiled visage, "Good one, you really should be saving those lines for your customers."

"Not a blush, not a stutter. My tactics must be getting old." She sighs lovingly, "Maybe I do need to digress a little, you're no fun this way." His steel resolve doesn't waver. Yes, he managed to fool her. For now. Her teasing is an infection on his unstable heart, he's barely keeping it together right now. "But before I go..." She strides forward, taking his chin between her warm, slender fingers. Their stares lock, unwilling to break contact as silence drags on until finally, "I saw something. Your flame...its flickering. Not an omen of death but...your fate has begun to change."

"Considering the next few days, that's a given." He says bitterly, eyes descending to the floor.

"Look me in the eyes." She beckons and he follows. A pair of hands cup either side of his face. Sadness taints those black eyes, filled with an unseen destiny that's yet to unfold. It must be a scary thing, future sight.

The sudden quiver of her eyes makes his throat dry, his voice hoarse, "Tell me, what did you see?"

A shake of her head is his answer.

Her hands drift down his features and back to her sides. She closes her eyes, "The Red Lioness has been reborn. That means…" She twirls towards the flaming hearth, its blistering blaze intensifies, "A single ember, without the slightest idea of its imminent greatness. Rampant, unquenchable, and coming for you. There is no escape once it consumes you, and it already has." She strides into the blazing inferno licking at her feet, lapping at the intricate dress hugging her well build frame. Amber, vermillion, the flames darken into deep red shades. Looking back at the speechless blond, she sends him off with a chilling warning, "Be wary of that little kitten, my prince."

Darkness submerges the room and she was gone.


End file.
